


Paint Me In Your Sunshine

by mukeclemmings



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, art student!ashton, art student!michael, ashton is an upperclassman, calum is a douche, he decides to help michael, michael's only friend is luke, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:11:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 26,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukeclemmings/pseuds/mukeclemmings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton is smiling and it grows when he turns to look at Michael. <i>Dimples</i>, is all Michael can think and then he notices the bit of blond coloring in his hair and <i>oh my god</i>, is he going to be in this class everyday? Because Michael knows he won’t be able to focus on anything else with Ashton right here.</p><p>(Michael is an awkward, freshman art major who really wants to kiss the dimples of the upperclassman who sits beside him in painting class.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Planning My Crash Landing

**Author's Note:**

> This was completely inspired by the return of Ashton's glasses so.  
> Also there just aren't enough Mashton fics.  
> I hope you enjoy it!  
> I apologize in advance, all mistakes are mine.  
> 

Michael hates college. 

He had moved into his dorm room exactly 4 days ago and Michael has already come to the conclusion that he hates college.

Michael hates his roommate, Calum, who had already seemed to befriend everyone else on campus, leaving Michael to sulk in their shared living space alone.  

Michael hates his dorm room. It’s small, confined to the point where Michael feels like he can’t move without bumping into something. It’s too simplistic, even with all of the band posters he had plastered to the walls on his side of the room, trying to cover up the stark, white walls.

Michael hates the campus. It’s too big, the size of a city. He couldn’t walk down the sidewalk without being nudged off by students walking in the opposite direction. He didn’t know where to go.

Michael hates Los Angeles. It’s too sunny and too foreign and it isn’t _Sydney_.

At first, Michael decided that he was going to stay in his dorm room as much as he possibly could, regardless of his hatred for it. However, that decision was quickly reversed when Michael discovered there weren’t enough outlets in his room to plug in his Playstation. Like, what else was there to do?

So, Michael pulled on a pair of black jeans and set out to find a spot to call _his_ elsewhere on campus.

-

How Michael ends up in a small building that smells too strongly of coffee, he doesn’t know.

Michael doesn’t even _like_ coffee. He hates coffee, to be honest. Why was he in a coffee shop? He mutters an order to the barista, hot chocolate. It’s not until she hands him the hot cup that he realizes he doesn’t even really want that either. It was _August_ , why would anyone order a cup of a boiling hot liquid to drink? 

He turns to find a seat, only to discover that every table is occupied. ‘ _Just talk to people’,_ others had advised him. ‘ _A lot of people are in the same boat as you, they’d be happy to welcome a new friend.’_ Those people didn’t understand him, though. Michael couldn’t just _talk_ to random strangers. But, he decides it’s time to man up. If he was going to have a life outside of him dorm, if he was going to make this coffee shop his regular spot (again, why did he pick a coffee shop?), he was going to need a friend to sit with, right?

Michael sees a thin boy sitting alone at a table by a large window. Slowly, he approaches the boy before awkwardly stopping beside him.

“Um,” Michael begins, looking down at his feet.

The stranger looks up from his laptop.

“I was wondering if,” Michael motions towards the empty chair on the other end of the small, round table, unable to finish his thought.

The boy’s eyebrows come together in confusion before he realizes what Michael is asking.

“Oh,” he says a little too loudly. “Yeah, of course, be my guest.”

Michael puts on his warmest smile as he sits down, but the boy had already returned to typing away at his laptop. So, Michael just stares like a freak. The boy is thin, like he noted before, but his shoulders are broad and a black t-shirt hangs off of them. His hair is a lovely shade of blonde but it is packed full of styling products and is pointed towards the ceiling, ‘quiffed’ as Michael had heard the style described before. The next thing he notices is a metal ring going through the boy’s lower lip. Then, the boy looks up at Michael again, and - oh - his eyes are the bluest eyes Michael has ever seen. His eyes are the most _beautiful_ eyes Michael has ever seen.

“Uh, I’m Luke,” the stranger offers before grinning. “I like your hair.”

“I like your lip ring,” Michael blurts out.

 _Idiot,_ Michael scolds himself.

He shakes his head before apologizing. “Sorry, I’m Michael.”

Luke nods once before returning to his typing again. This time, the silence doesn’t make Michael feel like an absolute dork. He feels almost _calm_ for the first time since he moved to this university. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and thinks that okay, maybe he and Luke aren’t exactly friends. But, this could be their _thing._ Maybe he will let Michael sit with him again in this coffee shop while he types whatever he is typing. Maybe Michael will never know Luke’s last name, or his major, or what he is typing. But, maybe Michael will have _someone_ to be around, and he won’t have to be lonely in his dorm forever.

-

Michael returns to the coffee shop the next day to find Luke in the same spot with his fingers racing over the keys just like the last time. He gets a hot chocolate and greets Luke with a “hi” and Luke replies with a “hey” and doesn’t seem to weirded out when Michael sits with him in silence again.

-

The day after that is the first day of classes and Michael feels lost once again.

He walks into his painting class and takes a seat in the first empty desk he sees in the back of the room. The walls are white, it reminds him of his dorm room, and he is confused because this is the classroom where _painting_ is taught - shouldn’t they have, like, paintings and shit on the walls?  

More students begin to file into the room and they are all talking and laughing with each other and Michael begins to think that he missed some event beforehand where everyone else in the class met each other. They all seem like friends and Michael knows _no one_. So, he shrugs lower into his seat and watches more people pour in as he waits for the professor to come in and begin class.

It’s then when a _man_ walks into the room, red sweater over black jeans, like Michael’s. His hair is a light brown, curly rings falling over his forehead, blocked from his eyes by a simple pair of glasses. He isn’t the professor, though. He’s far too young. However, Michael decides he’s too old to be a student in this class, which is composed of mostly freshmen. As if his appearance isn’t a giveaway to the fact that he is an upperclassman, Michael can tell by the group of girls, and a few boys, that surround him immediately. Michael grins at their starry-eyed expressions and turns away to look around the room once more.

The next thing he knows, there is a _thump_ beside him. Michael turns to find that this upperclassman has sat himself in the seat right beside Michael’s. _Wow_ , _he is gorgeous_ is the first thought that goes through Michael’s head when he sees him upclose. If he wasn’t so starstruck, he would probably laugh at himself for acting the same way those girls had prior. The boy turns to Michael and the next thing he thinks is simply, _his eyes_ , and that’s when Michael determines that Luke has the _second_ most beautiful eyes that he has ever seen because _damn_ , this guy just beat him out.

Michael assumes he just told a joke because he lips move and then he’s laughing but Michael can’t hear anything until he’s holding his hand out and saying, “I’m Ashton.”

Michael probably has the dorkiest grin on his face and he can’t find the words to reply before the professor swings the door open and jogs into the room with a “good morning, class!”

Once the professor stands in front of the class, he begins his ‘welcome’ lecture and then-

“In the back, you will find my teaching assistant, Ashton Irwin. He’s a junior art major who completed this class two years ago with flying colors, literally!” he jokes and everyone laughs at the awful joke, except Michael who is still looking at _Ashton_ in complete awe. 

Ashton is smiling and it grows when he turns to look at Michael. _Dimples_ , is all Michael can think and then he notices the bit of blond coloring in his hair and _oh my god,_ is he going to be in this class everyday? Because Michael _knows_ he won’t be able to focus on anything else with Ashton right here.

-

After all of his classes are over, Michael heads to the coffee shop and orders a hot chocolate and finds Luke sitting at the table in front of the big window. He sits down across from Luke with a huge smile on his face and for the first time, Luke starts a conversation.

“Good first day?”

Michael nods his head frantically. “I love college.”


	2. Fake You Out

The next day, Michael doesn’t have painting, so he doesn’t see Ashton. 

For some reason, he had built this dream that he would walk into his photography class and there Ashton would sit. He was nowhere to be seen, though, and Michael decides that photography is going to be awful. He likes to be hands on with his art, and he knows that snapping a still image won’t appease him. Afterall, anyone can click that button on the camera, right? 

The professor immediately assigns a small project. He instructs the class to capture a picture which demonstrates their own _style_ and Michael stares at the wall in confusion for a moment. He had never been into photography, he was just taking the class because he thought it would be an easy credit. Thus, Michael doesn’t _have_ a style and he’s going to have to create one by the end of the week.

He mopes out of the classroom and almost forgets to go to the coffee shop, _almost_. He quickly turns and heads for the small building where he orders a hot chocolate and sits across from Luke and his laptop.

“Do you know anything about photography?” Michael asks softly, unsure if he’s crossing any lines in their friendship by breaking the silence.

“A bit,” Luke looks up from his computer. “What do you want to know?”

Michael’s reservations about conversation dissipate quickly. “Well, I’m supposed to take a photo that shows my style, whatever that means. Like, how am I supposed to figure out my style? I like to draw more, and paint.”

Luke is typing again, but replies nonetheless. “What do you like to draw?”

“Cats, I guess? I draw people a lot. Just people that I think look interesting doing different things, y’know? I mean, I’d draw you typing on your computer, taking a sip of your coffee. What are you always typing, anyway?”

“Take a picture of me then, right now,” Luke answers, avoiding Michael’s question.

Michael sighs, figures it’s best to not press the issue this early in the relationship. “ _Fine,_ maybe I will.” 

Then, he pulls the camera that the school lent to him out of his bag. He gets up from the table and walks a bit away, back towards the coffee counter, so that he can get the large window and the small table and Luke’s long legs folded under the table into the picture. He snaps one shot and then backs up a bit without looking behind him. He bumps into something and then lets out a loud gasp as he feels a cold liquid pour down his back. Michael whips around to see who had just _dumped_ their drink all over him. Horror washes over his face as he looks straight into a gorgeous pair of hazel eyes behind a pair of simple glasses. The culprit looks shocked at first, but then a wide smile appears on his face.

 _Dimples_ , is Michael’s first thought once again, and then, _oh god_ because _of course_ he would make a fool of himself in front the one person he cared about impressing. _Of course_ it would be _Ashton_.

“Um,” Michael attempts to apologize, swallowing hard.

He turns to look at Luke who is trying to suppress a grin. Instead of looking at Ashton again, Michael dashes back to the table. He shoves his camera in his bag, slings it over his shoulder, grabs his hot chocolate and all but _runs_ out of the coffee shop, ignoring Luke’s expectant gaze.

He faintly hears someone yell his name, but he can’t tell if it’s Luke or Ashton. He isn’t going to stop and turn back, either. Michael keeps up his pace as he heads towards his dorm, trying to hold back tears as he shoves past the slower people walking in front of him.

When he finally gets into his dorm room, he slams the door behind him and drops his bag onto the ground. He sits at his desk and rests his elbows on his knees before shielding his face in his hands and finally just _crying_. He had decided earlier that he was going to stay in his dorm all the time and never leave for this exact reason, and Michael was seriously regretting ever reversing that decision right now. 

Ashton probably _hates_ him now. He’d not only ruined Ashton’s coffee but then he didn’t even apologize. And then he’d ran out of the coffee shop like a madman and both Ashton and Luke probably thought he was a freak now.

Then, as if he wasn’t already having a shit day, Calum walks into their room. Calum is _never_ in their room and he decides _now_ will be a great time to come in? He has a girl with him and Michael tries to wipe the tears off of his face. He can tell Calum notices because he starts to say something with an “uh” but then he stops and just turns back to his conversation with the friend he brought over.

Michael pulls out a sketchbook, he figures that maybe drawing will make him feel a little less awful. He climbs up into his lofted bed and settles up against his pillows and wraps a blanket around him. Blank page open in the sketchbook, Michael just touches his pencil to the paper when there is a knock at the door. Calum opens it and greetings are exchanged. Michael doesn’t look up, figuring it’s just some more of Calum’s friends. They come into the room and begin talking to Calum and the girl, Michael just hunkers down into his pillows and hopes no one notices him. 

He’s not listening to the conversation, but he hears someone say, “We live on the floor right above you, but Ash here lives in an apartment right off campus.”

Michael freezes. He quietly peeks over the edge of his bed and- oh, oh _fuck_ , oh my god.  It’s _him_. _He_ runs a large hand through his soft brown curls and smiles and _dimples._ Michael can’t believe this is happening to him. What did he do to deserve this? Why was Ashton in _this_ room out of all the other places on campus?

One of the strangers looks up and sees Michael. “Oh, hey man,” the guy says.

Michael jerks back and squeaks out a small “hi” once he is hidden from view.

“Oh, yeah,” Calum starts to explain. “That’s Michael, he’s a little...he’s...” 

Michael can’t hear him finish the statement but he’s sure that Calum mouths “he’s weird” or “he’s a freak” judging by the chuckles coming from the group.

-

When the strangers and Ashton finally leave, Michael sits up a bit, enough so he can see the door and can tell if Calum is leaving with them. Ashton is the last one walking out but he turns to look back at Michael. Michael’s eyes go wide and Ashton just gives him a small smile before the door shuts behind him.

Michael doesn’t know what the smile means. It could be “I forgive you for spilling my coffee and then not apologizing and running away” or (Michael hopes) “you look really cute cuddled up in blankets and pillows” or maybe even “I’m sorry your roommate it a huge dick.” Or maybe Michael’s got this all wrong, he thinks. Maybe the smile was just saying “yeah, Calum was right, you are a freak.”

Michael doesn’t know.

But, he figures he will find out tomorrow in painting class. Oh, yeah, painting tomorrow. Michael has painting again tomorrow which means Ashton will be there and-

Michael needs to talk to someone. He hops off of his bed and slips his converse onto his feet before taking off towards the coffee shop. He stops in front of the large window but it isn’t Luke that’s sitting at the table there. For the first time, Michael realizes that maybe Luke doesn’t spend every minute in the coffee shop like he had originally wondered. Now, he regrets not asking for Luke’s phone number.

Okay, no Luke. Michael can do this by himself though. It’s then that he decides, fuck it, Michael can’t embarrass himself any worse than he already has. He’s going to try to win Ashton back, not that he ever _had_ Ashton. But, he’s going to try to prove to Ashton that he isn't an absolute loser. He’s going to look fucking cool when he walks into painting tomorrow.

So, Michael heads to the store and buys some hair bleach and a bottle of black hair dye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to follow Michael's actual hair timeline at all, please forgive me.  
> Also, thank you to those who left feedback on my first chapter! Your comments make me feel so good!  
> I'm so happy some of you seem as excited as me about this story. I hope I'm keeping you all interested. :)


	3. The Kiss That Pulls Me Under

Ashton opens the door to the painting classroom and he’s practically pounced on by a small blonde girl. Sarah, he thinks her name is, is excitedly begging him to tutor her.

“You haven’t even got your first assignment yet,” he laughs, “You don’t know if you’re even going to need help.”

She insists that she’s awful at art and she just _knows_ she’s going to need help, but Ashton isn’t listening now. He glances back at the door and _oh, who is that?_ And then _oh my god, is that Michael?_

He watches as Michael takes the same seat as he did on the first day and Ashton quickly rushes over to take the seat beside him.

Michael’s wearing black on black on black, black shoes, black jeans, and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Ashton lifts his eyes to Michael’s face as the boy in black pulls off his sunglasses and turns to smirk at Ashton. Where was the awkward boy that knocked Ashton’s coffee out of his hands yesterday? He finally looks up at Michael’s hair and- it’s not blue anymore. It’s white, with a thick, black stripe going right down the center. 

“You look, look good,” Ashton stammers and no- Ashton isn’t supposed to get flustered by some dumb freshman. 

“Tell me about it, stud,” Michael replies.

_There he is,_ Ashton thinks. _There’s the boy I knew yesterday,_ one that would definitely make a reference to the musical _Grease._

And then class is starting and Ashton is glad that he’s not a student in this class because he can’t hear anything the professor is saying. All he can think is _Michael_ and he keeps glancing over at the boy who seems to be paying no attention to Ashton whatsoever. 

Then, Michael raises his hand and for the first time, Ashton notices the words “To The Moon” scrawled in black ink on Michael’s inner arm and he swears he is going to pass out any minute now because _how hot is that._ He feels his cheeks heat up and he moves his gaze to stare at the surface of the desk in front of him because he isn’t supposed to have a crush on this boy. He barely knows him.

Yet, when class is over and Michael starts packing up his books, Ashton turns to him once again and finds his courage.

“Hey, so, there’s this, like, party, thing, tonight at one of the frat houses. Would you, um, y’know, want to, like, go? With me?”

Michael turns to look at Ashton, huge smile and shining eyes. “I’d love to go with you.” But, then he forces the smile from his lips and shoves his sunglasses back over his eyes. “I mean, I don’t have anything else going on, so I guess, yeah.”

Ashton takes this as a victory because he can tell how excited Michael really is. “Great, I’ll stop by your room at 9, yeah?”

-

Michael jogs to the coffee shop, skips the hot chocolate, and heads towards Luke. He feels like a teenage girl who just had her first kiss and can’t wait to tell her best friend about it.

Luke is furiously typing, and then backspacing angrily. He has earbuds in so Michael decides to take a more assertive approach. As he slides into his seat, he grabs Luke’s laptop and turns it so he can see the screen. 

Luke rips the earbuds out and screeches. “Michael! Stop!”

Michael’s already begun reading though. It’s a poem, dark, but beautiful, one about unrequited love. 

“That’s actually really lovely,” Michael comments.

Luke doesn’t reply, just jerks the laptop out of Michael’s grip and turns to stare out the window.

“I’m sorry,” Michael apologizes. “I shouldn’t have. I hate when people look at my stuff before I’m finished with it.”

It’s an awkward silence now and Michael doesn’t even have a hot chocolate to sip on. Luke’s completely quiet and Michael thinks that he’s pissed him off when Luke looks up at him.

“It’s...” Luke starts. “There’s this, there’s a _person_ on campus. And I just, I can’t stop thinking about them and they don’t even know who I am and, god, he’s just so gorgeous.”

Wow, Michael had never expected Luke to admit he was into dudes. But then again, Michael was gay and hadn’t exactly mentioned it to Luke, so he shouldn’t be completely surprised. 

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I’m not- He doesn’t- He’s not friends with people who hang out in coffee shops writing shit poems about him all day.”

Luke looks absolutely miserable now, so Michael just sets his hand over Luke’s on the small table in front of the large window and tries to change the subject by asking, “Are you an English major, then?”

Luke smiles sadly. “Chemical engineering.”

Michael wasn’t expecting that. “So you’re, like, a genius, then?”

“Parents didn’t give me much of a choice,” Luke says and pulls his hand away to return to typing.

Michael realizes he may have just opened another wound so he just shuts up and leaves his hand on the table in case Luke wants comfort again.

-

It’s exactly 9 pm when there’s a knock at Michael’s door. He jumps up and grabs his leather jacket. (It’s not cool outside, at all, but Michael thinks it makes him look more badass and he really, really wants to impress Ashton tonight.)

He jerks the door open to find _some_ man on the other side and his jaw drops to the ground.

It’s definitely Ashton, because he’s smiling and _dimples_. He’s changed his outfit from earlier, though. Now, he wears a white t-shirt that is _just_ tight enough and his glasses are missing. A black fedora sits on top of his brown curls and Michael just wants to knock it off and run his fingers through the older boy’s hair.

“You look...” Michael starts but trails off as he continues to look Ashton up and down. 

Ashton rolls his eyes and grabs Michaels hand, pulling him out of the room and down the hall.

Just as soon as Michael can register that _oh my god, Ashton is holding my hand_ , Ashton has dropped his hand and they are walking side by side as if nothing had happened.

“I parked my car in the lot outside, but we can walk to the party from here,” he tells Michael, who nods.

Michael is only _sort of_ regretting wearing the leather jackets on the humid August night as they approach the frat house. They step inside and Ashton is greeted with handshakes and slaps on the back. Michael waits patiently behind him and scans the room. He sees Calum sitting on a couch, a pretty brunette perched in his lap. When Calum sees him, his eyes narrow and he glares. Michael raises his eyebrows as if to say “not such a loser now, am I?”

Ashton slips his hand around Michael’s again and pulls him towards the kitchen. Michael can’t help but wonder what it looks like to everyone else - a friendly jester to lead a friend around, or does it look romantic, like Ashton needs to be touching Michael all the time?

A guy hands Ashton two cups full of an unknown liquid, obviously alcoholic, and Ashton passes one to Michael. Michael looks at it skeptically but after Ashton chugs his down and goes for a refill, Michael begins to slowly sip the drink. It’s absolutely awful, but he doesn’t want to offend Ashton so he continues until his drink is gone and then politely declines a refill.

-

Ashton never declines a refill. It doesn’t take long at all for Ashton to push Michael down into a seat and then Ashton stands in front of him and starts rapping along with the song booming throughout the house.

Michael can’t help but giggle as he watches Ashton and he’s just so _happy._ Happy just to be with Ashton, but also happy that he’s getting the opportunity to see Ashton like this.

When the song ends, Michael stands up and grabs both of Ashton’s arms. “I need to get home, I have class in the morning.”

“But, Mikey,” Ashton whines. 

“C’mon, rap star” Michael tries to pull him to the exit.

“You can leave, I’m staying,” Ashton slurs.

“Nope, I have to walk back to my dorm. I need you to protect me.”

And Ashton let’s out a “hmpf” but that seems to appease him so he lets Michael wrap an arm around his waist and walk him back to his dorm.

Michael decides that it would be responsible if he at least took Ashton back up to his dorm and gave him some water and some food. He pulls Ashton into his room and leads him to his desk. Instead of sitting in the chair, however, Ashton pushes the art textbook, sketchbook, and drawing utensils onto the floor and plops down right on top of Michael’s desk. Michael sighs, but pulls a bottle of water out of the mini fridge and hands it to Ashton before stuffing a cup of Easy Mac into the microwave.

Ashton begins to uncontrollably giggle and Michael turns to see what’s so funny.

“C’mere,” Ashton crooks his finger.

Michael walks to him slowly and Ashton grabs onto his belt loops, pulling Michael between his spread legs and flush against his body.

Suddenly, Ashton isn’t laughing anymore. Ashton reaches up gently strokes Michael’s neck, and before Michael knows whats happening, Ashton is pulling his face down and their lips brush. The microwave beeps to signal the macaroni is done, but Michael doesn’t pay it any attention because Ashton’s lips are so _warm_. His tongue glides over Michael’s lip and he groans and then Ashton’s tongue is in his _mouth_ and Michael can’t think anymore. He just reaches up and finally knocks that dumb hat off of Ashton’s head and runs his fingers through the soft brown curls.

The door opens and Michael jumps back as far from Ashton as he can, but Ashton stays seated on the desk, completely unfazed.

“What the _fuck,_ ” Calum yells.

“Relax, man,” Ashton tries.

“Get your gay shit out of my room,” Calum commands.

“I- I’ll drive you home,” Michael mutters softly before walking out without looking back to Ashton.

Michael makes it down to the parking lot before he realizes he has no idea which car is Ashton’s, so he stops on the sidewalk and waits for the other boy to catch up to him.

Ashton is still drunk, so he is stumbling and Michael reaches out to steady him.

“What’s his deal?” Ashton asks in reference to Calum.

Michael shrugs and takes Ashton’s car keys from him. “You know he doesn’t like me.”

And then they are walking to Ashton’s car and Michael drives him to his apartment in silence.

Michael pulls up outside of the building that Ashton points out to him and temporarily stops the car, waiting for Ashton to get out.

“This...is my car,” Ashton reminds him and _oh, yeah._

“Right,” Michael pulls away to park the vehicle. “I’ll just catch the bus back.”

“No, no. You should stay the night here. You can sleep on the couch, we can go to campus together in the morning.”

Michael hesitates but he really _doesn’t_ want to take the bus this late at night. Besides, Ashton was kissing him just moments earlier so they’re, like, friends, right?

He agrees and Ashton leads him by the hand to his apartment. When Ashton opens the door, Michael can’t help but feel like he’s home. At least, it feels more like home than his dorm room. 

“I’ll get you some sweats and a pillow,” Ashton says as he heads towards a different room and Michael sits on the couch.

When Ashton returns, he hands Michael a pair of sweatpants, a pillow, and a blanket before he sits down on the couch as well. 

Michael is actually feeling pretty tired. He doesn’t party until one in the morning. He doesn’t really party at all. But Ashton is looking at him with glazed eyes and Michael really wants to kiss him again. He can tell Ashton wants to kiss him too, as his gaze is flicking between Michael’s eyes and lips. Ashton starts to lean in, but misjudges the distance and ends up falling forward into Michael’s chest.

“You need to get to bed,” Michael forces himself to say.

Ashton grunts, but gets up and slowly makes his way to the room he went to earlier, which must be his bedroom. He stops in the doorway but doesn’t turn around.

“Goodnight, Mikey,” he says.

Michael smile softly and yawns. “Goodnight, Ash.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry. I don't know that I'm happy with this chapter. Please let me know what you think!  
> Also, this chapter was completely inspired by [this keek](http://www.keek.com/keek/RI9Ddab).


	4. This Photograph

Michael wakes up to something tickling his face. He opens his eyes to find Ashton sitting on the floor in front of the couch where Michael lays, running his hand from Michael’s temple down his cheek. He’s got his glasses back on.

“Good morning,” Ashton chirps and takes a drink out of a white mug.

“Hey,” Michael whispers with a sleepy smile. “What time is it?”

Ashton glances at the wall behind Michael. “7:15. I didn’t know what time your first class was.”

“I have time,” Michael mumbles and closes his eyes, pulling the blanket up around him further.

“But, I don’t,” Ashton informs him and rips the blanket away from Michael before standing up.

“C’mon, I’ll drop you at your dorm. I have class in 15 minutes.”

Michael sighs but gets up. “I don’t even get any breakfast?”

“What if I buy you dinner tonight to make up for it?” 

Michael tries to hide his grin. “I mean, I’ll have to check my calendar but...”

Ashton grabs the pillow Michael had been laying on and hits the younger boy with it.

“Okay, okay. I think I could manage to squeeze in dinner with you, if I must.”

Michael just wants to stand there looking at Ashton for the rest of the day, but Ashton is grabbing his arm and pulling him outside and mumbling about how he was going to be late to class.

-

They are almost to Michael’s dorm when Ashton reaches his hand over and rests it on Michael’s knee.

“Shit,” Michael curses.

Ashton jerks his hand back immediately, fearing that it was too soon to use that gesture.

“Sorry, I’m- I didn’t- Sorry.”

“No, no! I just realized that I’m still wearing your sweatpants. I left my jeans back at your place,” Michael rushes out.

“Oh,” Ashton sighs in relief as he pulls his car up in front of Michael’s dorm. “I’ll just bring ‘em tonight, okay?”

“Sounds good. See you tonight, then,” Michael says and opens the door to exit the car.

“Wait,” Ashton grabs Michael’s arm and pulls him fully back into the car.

Michael is about to question this action but Ashton is pressing a quick peck to his lips and then he’s giggling. Michael has never got the chance to appreciate Ashton’s giggle but it’s definitely something Michael wants to hear more of, he thinks. Blush spreads across Michael’s cheeks and he gets out of the car again.

“Thanks for the ride. And, everything, y’know.”

Ashton giggles again. “Bye, Mikey.”

Ashton drives away and Michael makes his way up to his dorm room. He’s happy, finally. He swings the door open to his room only to have his day darkened. Calum sits at his own desk, flipping through a textbook.

“What are you doing here?” Michael questions. Calum is never around when Michael wakes up.

“I had to change some things in my schedule. Now, I have photography at nine-thirty.”

Michael lets out a loud sigh.

“What?”

“I’m taking photography, too,” Michael mumbles in response.

It’s then that he remembers the project that is due today, he’s supposed to have _his style_ captured in a photograph and all he has is one picture of Luke. He decides it will have to do, because he has no time and no inspiration for another photo. Michael still needs to run to the printing lab to get a hard copy of the picture, so he grabs a new shirt and a pair of jeans to swap with Ashton’s sweatpants that currently hang off of his hips.

“What the hell?” Calum scowls as Michael begins to change.

“What?” 

“Can you do that somewhere else?”

“What’s your problem?” Michael is thoroughly confused now. It shouldn’t be weird for him to change in front of his male roommate. It’s not like he’s getting naked.

“I don’t take my clothes off in front of you!”

As Michael thinks about it, he actually _hasn’t_ seen Calum change in their room since they’ve been living together and isn’t that kind of weird? Like, roommates are supposed to feel comfortable changing in front of each other, right?

“Why not? It’s not a big deal,” Michael comments.

“Because I’m not a queer!”

And, _oh_ , that’s what this is about. 

“You’re a douche,” is all Michael says. He finishes buttoning his jeans and grabs his backpack before heading to the printing lab to print off his photo.

-

Michael walks into his photography class and drops his photo in a basket on the professor’s podium at the front of the classroom before he takes his seat. He pulls out his sketchbook and begins to draw. He’s not really thinking about it, but then he realizes that he’s drawing Ashton’s side profile, a still that had burned into his mind from last night - black fedora with soft, brown curls poking out; hazel eye and wide smile adorned with a deep dimple. Michael’s forgotten all about Calum until he hears the professor say his name.

Michael looks up and sees the professor pointing back to him and as Calum starts walking back towards him, Michael notices that the only empty desk in the classroom is right next to his own. Calum takes the seat and ignores Michael, so Michael ignores him.

The professor starts randomly dropping photos around the desks in the room so that the students can look at each others work as he lectures. Michael figures that if the professor is allowing them to be distracted by looking at pictures, he should be able to continue his sketch of Ashton. 

He gets so caught up in his sketch that he doesn’t realize class is over until the professor starts collecting the photos and everyone is packing up. Michael shoves his sketchbook into his bag and is about to walk out the door when he hears-

“Mr. Clifford.”

Michael turns to see the professor holding the stack of photos in his hand. He assumes he’s about to get yelled at for _drawing_ in _photography class_ so he makes his way to the front of the room where the professor stands.

“I don’t seem to have a picture from you. Skipping the first assignment is no way to make a first impression.” 

And, _what?_

“Um, sorry? That can’t be right. I know I put my picture in the basket.”

The professor has a stern look at Michael starts to panic. He drops his bag from his shoulder and digs through it to get his camera. He turns it on and finds the digital picture of Luke, practically shoving it in the professors face.

“Alright, I suppose it may have gotten mixed up in someone’s things as it was being passed around. You have until tomorrow morning to bring me a new copy.”

Michael expresses his gratitude and jogs out of the classroom and to the printing lab to get his new copy right away. He wants to at least have a good _second_ impression on the professor.

-

When Michael gets to the coffee shop, Luke is waiting by the entrance with two coffee cups in his hands and a guitar case standing upright next to him. He grins as Michael approaches and hands him one of the cups.

“Hot chocolate,” Luke tells him.

“What’s up?”

“I’m performing on the university’s radio station tonight,” he grins. “I have to head over there now, but I didn’t want to not be here when you showed up.”

“Thanks,” Michael says, because that’s honestly one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for Michael, however little it may be. “Let me put my number in your phone, so you don’t have to wait around for me next time.”

Luke hands him his phone before picking up the guitar case. “Walk with me?”

Michael types his number into the phone as they start to walk to, what Michael assumes is, the radio building.

Luke gasps and freezes in place. “It’s him.”

“Huh?” Michael looks up and hands Luke his phone back, except Luke isn’t paying attention to him.

“The guy, the one from my poem.”

Michael follows his eyes and sees none other than Calum talking to some other guy, who is probably an asshole too.

“That dude talking to Calum?”

Luke turns to Michael, horror covering his face. “You know Calum?”

“Yeah, he’s my roommate,” Michael tells him and- “Oh, Luke.”

Luke is still looking at him with a terrified expression.

“Luke, please tell me it’s not Calum. I don’t think he’s who you think he is.”

“You don’t know anything,” Luke snaps.

“Luke, he’s homophobic.”

Luke looks back to where Calum is standing and Michael swears he can see Luke’s whole world shatter in front of his eyes when he whispers a very quiet, “no.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I have to get to the station,” Luke interrupts, and then he’s rushing away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left a comment on the last chapter. :)


	5. Until I Fall Asleep

Michael is sitting at his desk, adding a bit of color to his drawing of Ashton. His radio is on and he’s waiting to hear Luke play, which should be soon.

He hears the door swing open but he doesn’t bother to look, he knows it’s Calum. He also doesn’t even try to hide his drawing because _who cares_ what Calum thinks? Michael hates Calum. He genuinely hates him now. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael can see Calum pulling books out of his bag and setting them gingerly on his desk. Calum’s textbooks and notebooks are all bookmarked on several pages by colorful post-it notes or other papers. He pulls out his desk chair and sits in it, opening one of the books. Michael thinks that _sure_ , Calum might be a dick but at least it looks like he cares about his schoolwork.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier, but could you please, for the love of God, turn that _down_ ,” Calum growls, slamming his fist against the desk.

“ _Actually,_ ” Michael begins, narrowing his eyes and turning towards Calum. “My friend is about to come on, but when he’s done I would be happy to.” Michael puts on a fake smile, hoping his irritation shows through, but Calum doesn’t look at him.

“ _Next up, we have a special guest. Our very own Luke Hemmings is here to perform a couple of songs,”_ the radio DJ’s voice comes through the speakers.

Luke starts out with _I Miss You_ by Blink-182 and Michael realizes that they’d never talked about music with each other, but this is one of Michael’s absolute favorite songs, so he knows he and Luke were destined to be friends. He stares at the radio like it will help him see Luke playing his guitar and singing. It doesn’t, obviously, but Michael can still envision the scene - Luke in his black jeans and black hoodie, grey beanie on his head, beat up guitar in his lap.

When the song is over, Luke moves onto _Lego House_ by Ed Sheeran and Michael determines that Luke is actually _really good._ He glances over at Calum who is staring out the window like he is lost in thought. His eyebrows are drawn together a bit, but his hand in resting on his knee and he’s lightly drumming his fingers on it in time with Luke’s song. Michael shrugs it off, figures he must just really like this song. After all, Michael probably looked a little odd too when he first realized that Luke was singing _I Miss You_ prior.

Luke finishes the song and then the DJ is dismissing him. Michael really wants to run to the radio station and hug Luke and tell him he is amazing, but he knows that he probably already ruined Luke’s day. Besides, he won’t make it to the station before Luke leaves _and_ he has a hot date to get ready for.

_Right,_ Ashton will be coming to pick up Michael soon. He opens his dresser and spends a minute deciding whether or not he should change. Like, does he need to try to look a bit dressier? Michael doesn’t own ‘dressy’ clothing, but. He decides to swap his t-shirt for an black and white striped sweater that is just a tad too big on him, once again ignoring the fact that August in Los Angeles is not sweater weather. It makes him look a bit more presentable for a dinner date, though.

Michael then attempts to fluff his hair a bit and sits down to wait for Ashton, successfully ignoring Calum.

-

Michael opens the door when he hears a knock and Ashton is waiting on the other side. Smiles cross both of their faces when they see each other.

“I like your sweater,” Ashton compliments.

Michael can feel the blush tinting his cheeks. “Thanks.”

He follows Ashton to his car, where Ashton opens the passenger’s door and motions for Michael to enter. Michael’s smile hasn’t left his face and he knows that he’s still blushing.

“Where are we going?” Michael asks excitedly after Ashton gets in the car and they start driving away.

Ashton’s happy expression falters, a frown almost pulling down at his mouth.

“Um, actually, I decided I would just cook dinner tonight. I mean, if that’s alright? It’s already in the oven, but if you would rather-”

“That’s fine, _great_ , actually,” Michael assures him.

Michael starts rambling on about his day, about his missing photograph and how amazing Luke is. Ashton offers small smiles every so often, but Michael can tell that something else is on Ashton’s mind. He doesn’t feel like he has the authority to ask yet, though. Ashton parks his car and Michael follows him into the apartment building.

“What is that?” Michael scrunches up his nose. “It smells like something is burning in here.”

Ashton’s face falls and then he’s rushing up the stairs and fumbling with his keys outside of his apartment door. He shoves the door open to reveal a room full of thick, grey smoke. 

Michael runs after him and shouts, “Don’t go in there!” But, Ashton is already in the smoke. He follows him in and shuts the door to prevent the smoke from startling others in the building. He hurries to open all of the windows, wondering why the smoke detector hadn’t gone off in warning.

When Michael turns around towards the kitchen area, he sees Ashton sitting on the floor, face hidden in hands covered by oven mitts, a pan full of black gunk sitting in front of him. He slowly walks to the older boy and kneels in front of him.

“Hey, Ash, it’s okay.”

Michael softly curls his fingers around Ashton’s wrists and tries to pull them away from his face.

“It’s okay, Ash. We can just order pizza.” He smiles at Ashton when he finally uncovers his eyes, but those eyes are watery and Michael’s smile is not returned.

“It’s not okay, Michael! I almost burned down the entire building! I can’t cook! Why did I ever think this would be a good idea?”

And then tears start pouring down his face.

“Ash, it’s okay,” Michael repeats and tries to pull Ashton into his arms.

Ashton is shaking, now, his crying turned to full-on sobbing.

“What’s wrong, Ashton?” Michael questions, remembering how Ashton frowned moments ago in the car, before they had even known about the burnt meal.

“I got a flat tire after I dropped you off this morning and I had to get it fixed so then I didn’t have any money to take you out for dinner and it’s so _embarrassing_. The only reason I even have a car is because my parents bought it for me before- My parents, they cut me off financially when I decided to go to _art school_ because _what a waste of money_ so I’ve had to work to pay for tuition and that’s why I’m stuck in this _shitty_ apartment with shitty smoke alarms that don’t fucking _work_ and-”

“Hey,” Michael interrupts. “C’mon.” He pulls Ashton to his feet and leads him towards the bedroom. The smoke has dissipated now but the smell still remains. 

Michael gently pushes Ashton down onto the bed and pulls his shoes off for him. He then takes off Ashton’s glasses and sets them on the bedside table before toeing his own shoes off and lying down beside the shaken boy. He can’t help but feel like this is all moving so fast because he hasn’t even know Ashton for a _week_ and yet here he is, wrapping his arms around him as Ashton buries his face in Michael’s neck. He can’t help but feel that he _really_ wants to kiss Ashton when he pulls back to look into Michael’s eyes, so Michael closes the space between them and just barely brushes his lips against Ashton’s. Ashton responds by reconnecting their lips in a _real_ kiss. Just when it begins to heat up, Michael’s running his tongue across Ashton’s, Ashton pulls back.

“Can I paint you?” Ashton asks, and he has a sparkle in his eyes so how can Michael deny him?

“Yeah.”

Ashton scooches out of Michael’s grip and off of the bed. He walks out of the room and returns with supplies - a large pad of white paper, a few thin paint brushes, and a palette of paints, dragging a rolling chair behind him. He sits in the chair and places his utensils down on the bedside table. He giggles when he realizes Michael hasn’t moved - face half buried in the pillow, eyes drooping a bit as if he’s tired.

Michael’s content, because as Ashton begins to pull a paintbrush across the paper, his lips seem stuck in a small smile. Ashton looks up at Michael, and his eyes are closed.

“Mikey?” Ashton whispers.

“Hm?” But Michael doesn’t open his eyes.

“Just checking.”

When Ashton is pleased with his work, he sets the paper pad down and climbs into bed. He raises his hand to place it on Michael’s cheek and as he strokes the side of Michael’s face, he realizes he must’ve had blue paint on his hand, as it is now decorating Michael’s pale skin. He giggles quietly and Michael opens one eye to peek at Ashton.

“Stay, tonight?”

“Mhm,” Michael agrees. He closes his eye again, and immediately falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to sound repetitive, but honestly, thank you so much to those of you who have commented/bookmarked/left kudos. Your comments make my day! I'm so happy some of you are enjoying this! :)


	6. I Need You

Ashton lifts his head a bit to look over Michael’s body and at the clock on the bedside table. It’s a little after 5:30 in the morning, so Ashton knows he still has a couple of more hours before he has to get up and get ready for the day. He lies back down and slips a hand under Michael’s sweater. Absentmindedly, he begins gently rubbing his hand over Michael’s tummy. Michael makes a small noise and Ashton jerks his hand back.

“No...” Michael’s sleepy voice breaks the silence. “Don’t stop.”

Ashton grins and places his hand back where it was. He could get used to this, he thinks. He wouldn’t mind waking up to this sleepy boy every morning. Michael sighs in content and they both fall back asleep.

-

They walk to painting class together after Ashton successfully toasts a couple of bagels without burning them and helps Michael wash the paint off of his face. Their hands brush together when they’re halfway to the art building and Ashton smiles, wraps his pointer finger around Michael’s, so they walk into the classroom _holding fingers_.

Ashton is being an awful teaching assistant, sitting in the back of the class whispering to  Michael. Michael lets himself be distracted though, because if he had wanted to learn about art history, he would’ve taken a _class_ in art history. Michael just wants to paint. He wants an excuse to paint Ashton right now - animated expression, eyes shining, trying to keep his voice down so he doesn’t attract the attention of the professor. 

“What’re you doing tonight? We never got that pizza last night, do you wanna...?” Michael trails off.

Ashton sighs and looks down at his hands. “I can’t, tonight. I have- There’s this thing that I said I’d do. I’m sorry, I-”

“Oh. That’s okay, I’ll just- I have, y’know. I have assignments and stuff.”

Michael didn’t want to seem clingy. He’d stayed at Ashton’s the past two nights, after all. But, he couldn’t help but feel jealous knowing that something or _someone_ else was going to have Ashton’s attention tonight. He wants to ask Ashton what he’s doing, but it’s not like they are _boyfriends_ so Michael doesn’t think he has the right to know everything about his life yet. 

So he doesn’t. And Ashton stays unusually quiet for the rest of class.

-

Michael walks into the coffee shop. He sees Luke sitting at their table, laptop out, guitar case leaning up against the edge of the table.

“Hey,” Michael smiles and sits down with his hot chocolate.

“Hi,” Luke says quietly, he doesn’t look at Michael.

“You’re incredible,” Michael motions towards the guitar.

“Thanks,” Luke mumbles.

“Could you, y’know, teach me something sometime?”

Luke looks up. “What? Like, teach you a song?”

Michael nods.

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Should we go to your dorm?”

“Now?” Michael asks. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Let’s go.”

That’s how Luke ends up following Michael into his dorm room, guitar case in hand.

Luke stops in the doorway, almost drops the guitar.

“Oh,” Michael says when he realizes Calum is in the room, furiously jotting down notes from an open textbook.

Calum doesn’t look up. Michael turns to Luke, motions him inside the room. Luke swallows the lump in his throat and slowly moves completely into the dorm room.

“You didn’t- I didn’t know...” Luke whispers harshly to Michael.

“I didn’t either. We can just, do you want to see some of my stuff?” Michael tries to distract Luke.

Michael walks over to his desk, opens a drawer and pulls out a couple of tablets of paper. He offers Luke his desk chair, and sets one of the sketchbooks in front of him. He notices how Luke keeps glancing over at Calum, and also how Calum has glanced back at Luke a couple of times. Calum’s eyes are wide, even when he looks back at his textbook. 

“Oh, um. Calum, this is my friend, Luke. Luke, this is Calum.”

“I- Hi,” Luke smiles sheepishly at Calum.

Calum looks back to him, eyes still big. “H-hey.” And then he’s focusing on his textbook again.

Luke turns to look at Michael with a worried expression. Michael gives him a small smile. He opens the sketchbook to a page near the end. It’s a drawing of Luke, a recreation of the photo he took in the coffee shop.

“I did this one for you,” he gently hits Luke on the back.

“I still can’t believe someone stole your picture,” Luke laughs a little.

Calum’s head jerks towards the two of them, still wide-eyes glued to the drawing. He abruptly gets up from his desk and walks out of the room. 

“Why didn’t you tell me he was going to be here?” Luke asks as soon as the door closes.

“I told you, I didn’t know!”

“What’s it like, having him as a roommate?” Luke asks, a bit starry-eyed.

“Um, well... He doesn’t say much. Unless he’s telling me not to be so gay around him,” Michael shrugs. “I don’t even know what he’s studying.” 

Michael walks over to Calum’s desk, picks up one of the closed textbooks sitting on the corner of the desk. It’s bookmarked with papers like Michael had noticed before.

“Elementary education,” he reads from the front. “Didn’t strike me as the type to want to work with kids, but...”

Luke’s face lights up. “He likes kids?”

Michael opens the book and flips through a few pages and then-

“What...?” He pulls out one of the makeshift bookmarks.

“What is it?” Luke asks as Michael stares at the paper, the texture of it makes Luke think it’s a picture. 

Michael’s expression goes from confused to angry and just when he’s about to show it to Luke, Calum opens the door.

“What are you doing?” Calum barks.

“It was _you_?”

“Stay out of my stuff!” Calum strides over to where Michael is standing and rips the paper out of his hands. He looks over at Luke who still has _no_ idea what is going on.

“I could’ve failed that assignment because of you!” Michael raises his voice to a level just below screaming. “What are you even _doing_ with this?”

“I-” Calum looks nervously between Michael and Luke. “I’m- I-”

“Oh. Oh, no. You’ve got to be _fucking_ kidding me. You’ve been giving me shit this whole week and you- you’re...” Michael clenches his jaw.

“Stay away from him,” Michael walks back over to where Luke stands and places a hand on his back. He pushes Luke towards the door and Luke looks down at Michael’s other hand to find what Luke thought - a photo. It wasn’t just any photo though, it was the picture of Luke in the coffee shop.

When Michael gets Luke out of the dorm room, he closes the door, leaving Luke more confused than ever. _Why did Calum have Michael’s picture of him?_

Michael spins back around to face Calum and opens his mouth to continue their argument. “This whole time, you’ve been into a guy, and yet you-”

“Don’t you dare tell me what I’m _into_ ,” Calum screams and then he’s bringing his hand up and the next thing Michael knows, his cheek is stinging almost unbearably bad, he thinks, and Calum is speeding out of the room.

Michael crumples to the floor and just starts crying. This is all so ridiculous, because all Calum did was _slap_ him but no one has hit Michael since he came to college and it’s brought back all of the awful memories of high school. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone. He knows Ashton is busy and probably doesn’t want to put up with Michael right now, but he dials the number anyway. It rings a few times before he hears Ashton’s voice on the other end. He perks up a bit, but then realizes it’s a recorded greeting, it’s only Ashton’s voicemail. He hangs up and calls again, reaching the voicemail this time, too. However, he leaves a voicemail.

“Hey, Ash. I know- I know you’re busy but... I just, I need you.” The last part comes out a bit broken as Michael breaks into a fit of sobs again before he hangs up.

Michael manages to climb into his bed where he curls up under all of his blankets, facing the wall, and tears continue to stream down his face. He’s there for what seems like ten minutes, maximum, when the door swings open. He feels the bed shake and can tell the person is climbing up to join him. Michael whimpers a bit as the intruder pulls down the covers and slides up behind him. Michael thinks it’s Ashton - who else would it be - but it doesn’t _smell_ like Ashton.

“It’s okay, Mikey.” And, okay, that’s definitely Ashton’s voice.

Ashton presses his lips to the back of Michael’s neck. “It’s okay, babe. I’m here.” And then he’s reaching around the younger boy’s body and slipping his hand up the front of Michael’s sweater like he had this morning.

Once Michael has calmed down a bit, his body stilled and tears just barely rolling down his face, he turns in Ashton’s grip to face him. Ashton smiles at him, dimples making Michael smile a bit. Ashton reaches his hand up and wipes a few tears from Michael’s cheek.

“You wanna talk about it?” Ashton asks quietly. 

Michael knows he can talk about it, knows Ashton will listen and comfort him and knows that Ashton will make everything better.

So he nods slowly and pecks Ashton on the lips.


	7. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like this chapter and I hope you do too! :)

Michael explains everything to Ashton - Calum stealing his photo, Calum slapping him. Ashton gives him little kisses every now and then, and when Michael is finished telling the events that had just played out, Ashton straddles him on the bed and begins _really_ kissing him. 

Michael pushes him back a little. “No, I wasn’t done. I’m not this big crybaby, _stuff_ happened in high school and I just- this brought me back. I was the first kid to, um, come _out_ at my school and no one really supported me. Bigger kids beat me up. I thought that was just stuff that happened in movies, y’know? But they really tore me up. They’d punch me until I was on the ground and then start kicking me. I’d come home with bruises and busted lips. Mom would call the school, but they didn’t do anything. I was _gay_. I wasn’t a person to them, I guess. And then Calum-”

Ashton cut him off with another kiss.

“Ash,” Michael interrupts the kiss. “Where were you tonight?”

Ashton gives him one more kiss. “I was, uh, working a bit.”

“Why didn’t you just say that earlier?”

Another kiss. “Dunno. Sorry.”

“Where do you work?”

Ashton gives a dramatic sigh before pushing himself off of Michael and falling beside him. They are still packed pretty close together, however, due to the small size of the bed.

“I work at a deli downtown,” Ashton tells him.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m working tomorrow night and I’ll probably have to work longer to make up for skipping out early tonight,” he snaps.

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispers.

“No,” Ashton sighs again. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. You’re more important than work.”

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow night then! I’ll bring Luke and we’ll just get dinner there and-”

“No!” Ashton cuts in and turns on his side so that he’s facing Michael. “I mean, I’ll probably be working in the back, so you won’t see me. Besides, I don’t want you wasting your Saturday night worrying about me. Go to the movies or something.”

“Will you at least go to lunch with me tomorrow, then?”

Ashton smiles. “Sure.”

Ashton lays himself halfway on top of Michael and starts placing warm kisses along Michael’s collarbone that is exposed because of the scoop-neck shirt Michael is wearing.

“Do you wanna go back to my place?” Ashton asks, moving to look at Michael’s face before wiggling his eyebrows.

Michael laughs, but it comes out more like a puff of breath from his grinning lips. Ashton thinks it’s adorable.

And then they are both climbing down from the bed, walking out of the dorm, getting in Ashton’s car, and heading towards Ashton’s apartment building.

Ashton runs up the stairs to his apartment and Michael’s chasing after him. As soon as Ashton can get them into the apartment, he’s spinning Michael around and pressing the younger boy’s back against the wall. Ashton’s kissing Michael again and _wow._ Michael would let Ashton do whatever he wanted to him right now, Michael thinks as Ashton is dragging him to the bedroom, keeping their lips attached. The next thing Michael thinks is _oh god, are we going to have sex?_ And then Ashton is pushing him down onto the bed and falling on top of him. 

Michael’s only had sex once, and it was when he gave up his virginity to some slutty girl in his grade when he was 15. Needless to say, he wasn’t very experienced in the department, let alone with another boy.

Ashton’s not, like, ripping his clothes off or anything, though. He’s just kissing Michael deeply and occasionally trying to suck a bruise onto his collarbone. It doesn’t take long for Ashton to start grinding his hips down into Michael’s though, and Michael starts to hold his breath because _oh god, oh god, oh god_ this is what he was worried about. Ashton never makes a move further though, and as Michael starts to relax, he may or may not start pushing his hips up to meet Ashton’s in short, little thrusts.

Before long, both boys are just groaning into each other’s mouths and then Michael’s losing it, right there underneath Ashton, completely clothed. _Oh shit,_ is all Michael has time to think because he’d just _cum in this pants_ in Ashton’s bed but then Ashton follows him over the edge a few moments later and heaving breathing is the only sound in the room as Ashton rolls off of Michael and onto the bed. Ashton leans over quickly and places a soft kiss on Michael’s lips before he gets off of the bed. He walks over to the dresser and opens the top drawer, rummaging around until he pulls out two small articles of clothing. He throws one, a pair of grey boxer briefs at Michael, and then starts unbuttoning his own jeans to change his ruined pants and boxers to something clean. Michael slowly raises off the bed to mimic Ashton’s actions.

“Never got these back to you,” Ashton says, handing Michael the pair of jeans he’d left here a couple of nights ago.

“Oh,” Michael says quietly, a bit sadly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No! God, no. Please, stay. I just- Wow. I didn’t realize how that would sound. I just wanted to give them to you before I forgot. Please, stay.”

Ashton leans over Michael to plop down in the bed and Michael lies down beside him again and curls into his side. They’re both smiling, Ashton leaning in a bit to kiss Michael one more time. Michael’s eyelids are heavy, though. He looks exhausted, so Ashton lets him fall asleep.

-

When Michael wakes up, there is sunlight streaming through the curtains. Michael is facing away from Ashton, but the older boy’s arm is lightly draped over Michael’s waist. The alarm clock has apparently died, as no numbers are displayed. Ashton’s cell phone is lying beside it, though, so he picks it up to check the time. He sees that it’s just after eight o’clock and he’s about to set the phone back down when he notices two text messages that were received in the night.

_whered u go?_

_u left ur condoms here_

Michael starts to shake a bit, because _what?_ He swipes the screen to open the entire text conversation, but Ashton’s phone is locked. Michael doesn’t know what to think. Ashton isn’t his _boyfriend_ or anything. But, after last night and the entire _week_ , Michael felt like they were definitely more than friends. He needs some fresh air.

He carefully scoots out of bed, slips on the clean jeans that Ashton had returned to him last night, and quietly makes his way out of the apartment. Instead of returning to Ashton’s side, he starts the long walk back to his dorm.

-

He stops outside of his dorm room, hearing a noise inside. It’s Ed Sheeran’s “Lego House”, and it reminds Michael of Luke singing it on the radio. He’s about to open the door when he realizes that _this isn’t Ed Sheeran_ and _this isn’t a recording_. He slowly pushes the door open and almost passes out at the scene before him.

Luke, (yes, _Michael’s_ Luke) is sitting on Calum’s desk, old guitar in his lap as he strums the song. Calum is sitting in his desk chair in front of Luke, and they are positioned _way_ too close, Michael decides. There are two coffee cups sitting beside Luke on the desk. They seem entranced with each other, eyes locked as Luke continues the song, not noticing Michael’s entrance. Michael clears his throat and both boys jerk their heads in his direction. Calum pushes himself and his chair away from Luke and immediately jumps to his feet. Luke looks shocked, but not frightened like Calum does.

“Um,” Michael swallows. “I’m, uh, just going to take a shower.”

He grabs his necessities as quickly as he can, neither of the other boys moving an inch, and then Michael is making his way out of the room and down the hall to the showers.

-

Michael drags his shower out as long as he can, partially because he wants to give Luke time to get out of his room, but mostly because he’s thinking about Ashton and _Ashton’s condoms._ His skin is totally pruney now from being under the water too long, so Michael knows it’s time to get out from under the water. As he’s getting dressed, he contemplates whether or not to throw away the borrowed boxer briefs he’d had on before, _Ashton’s_ boxer briefs. He really wants to, because he's kind of upset with Ashton right now, but in the end he keeps them. He does pull on a pair of his own boxers though, before stepping into his jeans. 

He stops outside of his dorm and waits a moment to listen for music. When he doesn’t hear any, he assumes Luke is gone. He pushes the door open only to have an entirely new wave of terror wash over his body.

Calum is lying on the futon that’s pushed up against the back wall; Luke is on top of him, pinning him down; their lips are moving against each others. The pull apart when they hear Michael enter. Calum gives Luke a shove, but he doesn’t budge. Calum looks just as terrified as Michael feels right now.

“I- We- This isn’t what it looks like,” Calum sputters.


	8. Break In

So, _maybe_ Michael had dropped his things on the floor and ran out of the dorm room and out of the building and into the street after he’d seen his friend and awful roommate _making out_.

_Maybe_ he had ran all the way to the campus art gallery.

_Maybe_ he had been sitting on a bench in the gallery for the past three hours, ignoring his phone constantly vibrating in his pocket, staring at a large painting on the wall, plaque underneath it denoting the artist was _Ashton Irwin._

_Maybe_ he tried to see himself in the painting, in the man that Ashton had painted.

He felt stupid after a while. Michael wasn’t Ashton’s muse for this painting. He _couldn’t_ be. Ashton couldn’t possibly have had enough time to paint this in the time that he’d known Michael. And yet, the back half of Michael’s sketchbook was filled with simple scribbles of Ashton’s face and Ashton’s arms and Ashton’s smile with his dimples.

Michael feels stupid. Until a girl sits down next to him on the bench, just as much wonder in her eyes as Michael figured was in his own.

“Do you, uh, know the artist?” he asks her.

“Huh? Oh, Ashton? Yeah,” she smiles softly. “I dated him for a while a couple of years ago.”

She’s really beautiful, Michael thinks. She’s got long blonde hair that’s pulled back in a loose braid, her skin is flawless, her smile is one that makes Michael want to smile. She’s the kind of girl Michael imagines Ashton being with. 

Before Michael has a chance to feel jealous or insecure, she speaks again. “He’s really, really great. A really great artist, I mean. It’s probably dumb, but I always find myself trying to imagine that he painted this stuff with me in mind.” 

She laughs and Michael does too.

“I, uh, I was just thinking that,” Michael tells her.

“It’s like he paints with so much _passion_. Everything he does, he does with passion.”

“So, um, what happened? Why aren’t you still together?” 

“Sorry, sorry. You don’t want to listen to the problems in my failed relationship.”

“No, it’s okay. I, uh, I’m having some reservations about my current relationship. Maybe it could help me out.”

“Well, it’s not like he was an axe murderer or anything,” she laughs again. “He just was... He had an obscure job. And I was okay with it at first. But, it started to get in the way of our relationship and I just couldn’t put up with it anymore.”

Just when Michael is about to ask her what could possibly be so obscure about working at a deli, the girl’s phone rings.

“Anyway, thanks for listening,” she says, smiling at him and answering her phone before getting up and walking away.

Michael stares back at Ashton’s painting for a while. Finally, he figures that maybe the girl just meant that Ashton’s job sucks, because he had to turn down Saturday night dates due to his work schedule. Yeah, that sounds good.

Michael’s phone vibrated against his leg for the millionth time today, and he finally decides to look at the screen. There’s a couple of text from Luke that go along the lines of ‘ _he’s not as bad as u think’_ but almost all of the notifications are missed calls and voicemails and texts from Ashton. The texts looks like ‘ _what happened to u?’_ and _whered u go?_ ’ and _‘did i do something wrong?_ ’ so Michael is fairly sure the voicemails will sound about the same. He opens the last voicemail, the one that Ashton had just left.

“ _Michael, please call me back. Please tell me what’s wrong. I’m so sorry, babe. Please talk to me.”_

Michael decides that Ashton probably doesn’t deserve this treatment. Michael’s just had his head full of _everything_ this morning, from Luke and Calum, to the texts he saw on Ashton’s phone (which Michael had finally concluded that it was just a joke that one of Ashton’s friends had sent him to get his attention). However, Michael didn’t think it’d be right to apologize for ignoring him all morning over the phone. Instead, he’ll wait until dinner time and go visit Ashton at work, hang out at the deli until Ashton goes on break, and explain everything to him then.

So, since Michael definitely _isn’t_ going back to his dorm to risk another horrifying disaster again, he chooses to go to the coffee shop and drink a cup of hot chocolate in peace.

-

A little before five o’clock, Michael wanders into the deli downtown. There are two employees chatting behind the counter, no other customers are around.

He approaches the counter and asks, “Is Ashton here?”

“Ashton?” one of the employees asks, looking confused and _oh my god, he doesn’t even work here._ But then, “He’s not working tonight, sorry.”

The first thing Michael thinks is, _thank god he actually does work here_. However, he then focuses on the fact that Ashton _lied_ to him. But, why? Where would he be that he would need to lie about it?

Michael orders a random sandwich and a soda and sits down at one of the small tables to eat. He doesn’t enjoy it, clearly. All he can think about it _Ashton_ and _what the hell is going on?_ He goes to take a drink of the soda when his phone rings. Pulling it out of his pocket, he sees it’s Luke calling him.

“What?” Michael grumbles.

Luke sighs deeply on the other end. “Look, I’m sorry about earlier but-”

“My world doesn’t revolve around you and Calum, Luke,” Michael snaps.

“Oh,” the blond is quiet for a few seconds. “Um, what’s wrong, then?”

It’s Michael’s turn to sigh. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Ashton lied to me and I don’t know why and I don’t know what to think.”

“Where are you?”

Michael explains that he’s at the deli downtown and Luke assures him he’s on his way. 

By the time Luke walks in the door, Michael is done eating his sandwich. Luke pulls out a chair across from him and crosses his hands on the table.

“So, tell me what’s going on,” Luke says. And Michael tells him everything - Ashton smelling weird; Ashton’s text messages; Ashton lying about working.

Luke seems absolutely appalled, and Michael can tell he’s already taking a disliking to Ashton although they’ve never really met.

“Let’s go to his place,” Luke suggests.

Michael’s eyes widen. “No, what if he’s there? He’ll think I’m obsessed with him.”

“We’re hoping he’s there. Then, you can interrogate him and find out why the hell he lied to you and who else he’s sleeping with.”

Michael doesn’t want to, but Luke leaves him with no choice as he gets up and grabs Michael’s upper arm to drag him out of the deli. They take the bus to the corner of the street that Ashton lives on and walk the next couple of blocks to reach the apartment building.

Michael stares up at the building and _prays_ that Ashton isn’t home. As much as he wants answers, he doesn’t really _want_ to know because what if Ashton is cheating on him? Although, it isn’t really cheating because they aren’t really _dating_ and-

“C’mon,” Luke starts into the building.

Michael shows him which door is Ashton’s and he cowers behind the taller boy as Luke knocks. They wait a few moments and there’s no answer.

“Well, he’s not home, let’s go,” Michael laughs nervously and tries to leave.

Luke just knocks again.

“He’s got to have a spare key out here somewhere, right?” Luke thinks aloud. He runs his hand over the top of the doorway until his hand touches cool metal. “Aha.”

“ _Luke,”_ Michael warns. “We can break in.”

Luke ignores Michael and takes the key in his hand before sticking it into the lock and turning it. 

“Okay, then you open the door. He wouldn’t press charges against you,” Luke says and moves aside so Michael can access the door.

Michael looks at him skeptically, but moves forward and slowly turns the doorknob. He pushes the door open and both boys slowly move into the apartment. There is a noise that sounds from the bedroom and the boys head in that direction. The bedroom door is cracked, and Michael taps it so that it will reveal what is happening in the room.

For the second time that day, Michael wishes he hadn’t opened the door.

His mouth actually falls open at the sight before him and out of the corner of his eye he can see Luke practically crumple to the ground beside him with a whimper. Michael’s hearing becomes muffled, the room looks like it’s spinning, Michael feels like he’s in a dream. He shouts something, but his voice sounds foreign and he really doesn’t even know what he said. Luke’s frantically grabbing at his wrist and trying to pull him away from the room. Ashton’s there, of course. Michael continues to shout angry things at Ashton. His vision is becoming blurry from tears welling up in his eyes and spilling down his face.

Then, Ashton surges towards Michael, screams right in his face. “You’re not my mother!” Michael can tells he’s about to start crying as well. “You’re not even my boyfriend! You have no idea how hard it is to put yourself through college!” And Ashton falls to the ground, just how Luke had moments ago.

Michael still wants to comfort Ashton, even now. He knows he can’t, though. Instead, he shoves the heels of his hands into his eyes to clear some of the tears. Now that Ashton’s body isn’t blocking his view, he stares murderously at the other object of interest in the room.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. I hope I haven't turned any of you off by adding a bit of drama, I know you liked the fluff. Please let me know so I can make changes for my future plans if I need to!


	9. Playing Games

Not much is said between Michael and Luke as the leave Ashton’s apartment. There’s nothing said, actually. They both know what needs to be done, though. 

They take the bus back to campus and they silently walk to Michael’s dorm. Michael grabs a few essentials - his backpack and schoolwork, a pillow, a duffle bag full of clothes and hair products and a toothbrush.

Luke then leads Michael to his own dorm, the building is a ten minute walk from Michael’s. They are almost there when Michael glances over at Luke who’s looking absolutely _crushed_. 

Luke notices Michael watching him and says, “I just thought, this is _it_ , y’know? And then...”

“I know,” Michael says quietly. 

They don’t talk anymore, after that. They walk into Luke’s room where there’s only one bed and Michael is extremely thankful that Luke has his own room, no roommate. He throws his pillow on Luke’s bed and drops his bags onto the floor at the foot of it. Luke kicks his shoes off and slips out of his jeans before he climbs into his bed. He’s curled into himself, but reaches his arms out to Michael like a small child begging to be picked up. Michael gets the hint and copies Luke, removing his shoes and jeans, and getting into the bed. He wraps his arms around the blond, and although Luke is larger than Michael, he seems so _small_ right now. He shoves his face into the crook of Michael’s neck and fists his hands into Michael’s shirt. It’s only eight o’clock, but both boys are completely wore out from the confrontation in Ashton’s apartment.

“I’d never been in love before,” Luke says slowly, quietly. “And then I saw him and I just... _knew_.”

And Michael knows how Luke feels because Michael was starting to think that he could've fallen in love with Ashton. Ashton is everything good in the world.

_No. No, Ashton is not good._

Michael accidentally thinks back to the incident that had happened an hour ago. Michael isn’t mad that Ashton had lied. He isn’t even mad that Ashton was having sex with another person. Michael is mad because Ashton _knows_ how much he hates Calum. Now, Michael’s replaying the entire thing - Calum’s university sweatshirt lying on the ground beside the rest of his and Ashton’s clothes, Ashton’s glasses on the side table; Luke collapsing; Ashton completely naked, moving on Calum’s lap; the sound of skin on skin-

Michael turns over in the bed abruptly. He leans over the side of the bed and is thankful to find a trashcan. He grips the rim of the can and pulls it up towards his face before emptying the contents of his stomach into it. He feels Luke get up from the bed but he’s only gone for a moment before he rejoins Michael. This time, Luke molds himself against Michael’s back after he hands a box of tissues to him. They lay like this for a while. Luke’s nose is pressed into Michael’s hair, his lips setting against the back of Michael’s neck. When his lips move, goosebumps break out on Michael’s body.

“Can I dye your hair?” Luke asks. 

“Mhm,” Michael hums.

And then Luke’s hopping out of bed and pulling on Michael’s arms with all of his strength. Michael grumbles, but gets up, and has to smile a bit at his friend’s excitment.

-

Not much happens after Michael’s hair goes dark purple - dark purple is how he feels. He and Luke lay in bed all day Sunday. It had fully set in, what’d they’d witnessed the day before, so they were trying to distract themselves, watching Disney movies from the Lion King to Toy Story.  

Then, on Monday, both boys try to return to their normal lives. Michael drags his feet down the sidewalk to painting class. Ashton isn’t there. 

In photography, Michael and Calum ignore each other, like usual. They get the assignment to capture _love_ in a photograph. While his classmates are all taking pictures of their girlfriend, or a couple sitting on the grass in the middle of campus, Michael decides to take a picture of the old man who goes to the coffee shop early every Wednesday morning. He sits alone, and Michael finds out that his wife had passed away a few years prior. They’d met at this very coffee shop 60 years ago when they went to the university. Michael figures that’s the truest love he could find. He’s willing to bet that the old man never walked in on his wife getting fucked by his worst enemy. 

-

Michael doesn’t see Ashton all week. Until Friday.

Michael sits down in painting class and he knows that they are about to get their first actual painting assignment, because there is a syllabus projected on the screen in the front of the room. Michael _should_ be shaking with excitement, because _finally_ he’d get to paint Ashton. But, no. Michael would instead be painting Luke. Michael didn’t care if the assignment was to paint a nature scene. Michael was going to paint Luke in the coffee shop in front of the big window, rain streaming down outside, using grays, and blacks, and dark blues and purples. That’s how both of their worlds felt right now.

The professor enters the room and heads to the front, speaking on his way, “Glad to see you’re feeling a bit better, Mr. Irwin.”

Michael’s ears perk up at the name. He looks around to find, all the way on the left side of the room, a couple of rows in front of Michael, sits Ashton.

 _God,_ he looks like absolute shit. He’s wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt, his hair makes him look like he’s just woken up. His glasses are on crooked, from what Michael can tell at this angle. There’s a coffee cup sitting in front of him on the desk and his hand, which is set beside the cup, is shaking as if Ashton’s been drinking coffee for the past ten hours and hasn’t slept in the past ten days.

 _Good,_ Michael thinks. He hopes that Ashton hasn’t been able to sleep.

But really, he doesn’t. Even if Ashton hasn’t made any attempt to apologize to Michael - no phone calls, no texts - not that Michael would have answered, anyway. And Michael is a little bit hungry for attention now. But, he didn’t even approach Michael before class, and he’s not looking back to Michael now, either. 

Michael watches Ashton until class is over and he looks down to pack up his things with the assignment of painting something that makes him _happy_. He hurries, wanting to catch Ashton because as upset as he is with the older boy, he needs _answers_.

When he looks back up, Ashton is gone.

-

Michael has to return to his dorm because he needs his painting supplies and some more clothes. Calum shouldn’t be there, though. Michael hopes he isn’t there.

However, Calum _is_ there, of course. He’s lying on his bed, scrolling on his phone. Michael rolls his eyes and begins to gather the items he came for.

“Michael, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t know he was your boyfriend!”

“He’s _not_ my boyfriend,” Michael snaps and starts to move a bit faster because he wants _out_ of this room.

Calum senses it and gets down from his bed. He stands right in front of Michael so that he has to listen. “I just, I thought it would help me with Luke-”

“Don’t _even_ talk about Luke. You-”

“Listen to me, dammit! _Please_.”

Michael just looks at him, willing Calum to continue.

“I’ve never _liked_ a guy before,” Calum explains. “And then Luke was here and he was kissing me and touching me and- I didn’t know what to do. I’ve never had sex with another guy. So, I thought that if I hired Ashton he could teach me some things and-”

“If you _hired_ him?” Michael interjects. “Oh my _god_.”

Everything starts to make sense to Michael. He decides that the few things he’d thrown in his bag was going to have to work for now, he needed to get out of here. He pushes past Calum, who lets him, but when Michael gets his hand on the doorknob, Calum speaks up again.

“Wait!”

“ _What?_ ” Michael says with frustration.

“Please...tell Luke I’m sorry.”

And then Michael’s walking out, hurrying back to Luke’s dorm.

-

Luke’s been leaving the dorm door unlocked since Michael doesn’t have a key. Michael doesn’t even think to knock, figuring that Luke isn’t back from classes yet.

Michael is wrong.

He stops in the doorway (the doorway has become symbolic of a nightmare for Michael). In front of him, Luke is sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed. Next to him, legs hanging off the side of the bed, sits Ashton.

“He’s not interested,” Michael says calmly and moves into the room. He starts to empty his bag, placing his school books down on his half of Luke’s desk.

“What?” Luke asks.

But Michael is talking to Ashton. “He has better things to spend his money on than your STD-ridden ass.”

“Michael, _don’t,_ ” Luke whispers.

Michael doesn’t turn around, slowly adjusts the items on the desk to _avoid_ turning around. He regrets what he’s said right after he said it. But he can’t apologize because _Ashton_ is the one in the wrong and Ashton needs to know that Michael’s still absolutely _pissed_.

“Give him a chance, Mikey.”

Michael swings around at that. “Give him a _chance?_ He had _your_ boyfriend’s dick up his ass and you want me to _give him a chance?”_

“I didn’t have a choice,” Ashton pleads. “I didn’t have enough money for rent, for food....”

A few tears slip down Ashton’s cheeks and Michael breaks. He drops on his knees in front of where Ashton sits on the bed. He puts his hands on Ashton’s thighs and looks up at the older boy.

“Please, stop,” Michael murmurs. “You don’t need the apartment. You can come live here with me and Luke.”

Ashton laughs sarcastically, rolls his eyes at Michael. When he looks down at Michael, though, he sees his eyes are full of concern and sorrow. Ashton knows that Michael is just confused and can’t understand what Ashton’s life is like, knows that Michael is naive and has never had to face a situation like this. So, _of course_ he would think that life was that easy.

“Can I show you something?” Ashton asks.

Michael nods and stands up, Ashton following before locking his hand around Michael’s and leading him out of the Luke’s dorm room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter and to everyone who is still reading! I'm sorry for how I left you off on the last chapter and I hope I didn't disappoint you with this one!


	10. The Deal

Michael had got in Ashton’s car and now Ashton was taking him somewhere unknown. But, Michael did know where they were going, he knew the way to Ashton’s apartment by now.

While Ashton got out of the car after parking it, Michael stayed inside and stared at the building. He didn’t _want_ to go back in there. Ashton opened his door for him, but Michael didn’t move. He didn’t even realize he was shaking a bit until Ashton got down on his knees beside the car, where the passenger door was open. He put his hands on top of Michael’s, which are setting in the younger boy’s lap.

“Mikey,” Ashton whispers.

“Is that what the texts were about?” Michael asks out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“The texts the other day. When I left in the morning. You had some texts. About condoms. Was that, um, _work_ related?”

Ashton is silent for a moment, slightly taken aback because he didn’t know Michael had seen _those_.

“Yes,” Ashton admits.

Michael nods and finally gets out of the car.

As they walk up to the apartment, Ashton wraps his hand around Michael’s. Michael almost jerks it away, _almost_. Instead, he lets Ashton hold onto him, but Michael doesn’t hold back.

Once they’re in the apartment, Ashton motions to the couch. “You can sit, this’ll take me a minute.”

“Have you screwed anyone on this couch?” Michael asks. He knows it’s rude and unnecessary, but he’s still trying to come to terms with everything and the nasty remarks just slip out.

Ashton clears his throat. “Um. Calum’s the only one who’s...been in here.”

Michael wants to ask about this, but decides now isn’t the proper time.

Ashton walks to a closet on the edge of the room and opens the door. He starts pulling out large canvases and lining them up against the wall and the coffee table in front of Michael. They’re all paintings, _Ashton’s_ paintings. Michael knows this because one of them is the painting that he saw in the gallery last weekend. 

There’s thirteen, total. Michael doesn’t speak as he looks around the room at them.

“These are all of my paintings that I’ve ever done, since I started getting serious. Minus one.”

“Minus the one hanging in the gallery?” Michael questions.

“Um. Well, the one that _would_ be hanging in the gallery. Someone- That’s the other part of what I was going to show you. C’mon.”

Ashton drives them back to campus and parks outside of the gallery. Ashton leads the way, stopping right where Michael had sat almost a week ago. On the wall where Ashton’s painting was is now a blank space.

“This is where they always hang my work,” Ashton tells Michael.

Michael is quiet, he doesn’t see where Ashton is going with this conversation.

“I’ve done fourteen paintings.”

Michael is still confused. “Okay? So, where is the one that’s meant to be hanging here?”

“Someone bought it yesterday.”

“Oh. Um, congratulations?”

“Yeah. Thanks. It was the first one anyone’s ever offered on.”

Michael’s actually about to just up and leave because Ashton’s acting really strange and Michael is so, so confused. He doesn’t know why Ashton’s dragging him all over just to tell him he’s sold a painting.

“I put so much work into my first thirteen. And this one,” he motions to the empty wall. “This one took me one day. It just- Everything felt _right_ with this painting. Like, right from the start, I knew exactly the still I wanted to use. And I knew just what colors I wanted and it’s like my hand was moving on it’s own, like my body just...I don’t know, _knew_.”

Michael sighs. “What are you getting at?”

“It was you, Michael. The painting was a portrait of you. And either I’ve found my niche in you, or someone else on campus likes you just as much as I do. Because my paintings have never been worthy of purchase before.”

Ashton moves to stand directly in front of Michael. He grabs the younger boy’s hands in his own.

“Michael. I’m so sorry. Can we please try this again?”

Michael sighs. “If you stop doing _those things_ to yourself.”

“I can’t just stop!” Ashton drops Michael’s hands to throw his up in the air. “I need the money, Mikey!”

“How can you expect me to be okay with this? Okay with you sleeping with complete strangers? What if you get a disease and then you give it to me?”

“I’m clean, Mikey! I got checked when I met you!”

“Okay, but the guy you sleep with tomorrow might give you something. And did you ever stop to think that maybe I just wouldn’t be okay with you sleeping with other people? I want a relationship with you, Ash! I don’t want to _share_ you!”

Ashton is crying again, and everyone else in the gallery is shooting them annoyed looks.

Michael wraps his arms around Ashton in a hug. “Look, let’s make a deal. If you’re so sure that _I’m_ what sold your painting then... Take a break from this, this sex thing, okay? A one-week break. And paint me again. And if the painting sells, then you have to give up this sex stuff for good, okay? You can just, I don’t know, paint me forever and you’ll get rich and buy me a big house and a nice car and I’ll go shopping everyday and-”

“So, selling _you_ for money. Isn’t that just like...” Ashton trails off when he sees the way Michael is glaring at him.

“Just promise you’ll try this, okay?”

“Okay, I promise.”

Michael gives Ashton a slow kiss and then retakes his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Ashton says so quietly that Michael almost misses it. He wraps his arms around Michael and buries his head in Michael’s shoulder.

“I know. How about I take you to dinner?”

“Can we just order that pizza?” 

Michael smiles. “Sure.”

-

They return to Ashton’s apartment and order a large pizza with every kind of meat that the pizza place has. 

Ashton turns on the television and _Friends_ is on, so that’s where they leave it, laughing at the show and eating their pizza. Ashton and Michael are sitting close enough together for their knees to be resting against each other’s, and Michael thinks this is how it _should_ be. So, after they finish their dinner, Michael helps Ashton clean up and then they sit back on the couch. Michael wraps one arm around Ashton’s shoulders and uses his other hand to pull Ashton’s face to his. He kisses Ashton, slow and gentle and passionate. Before long, Ashton’s lying down and pulling Michael down with him. The kisses never get heated, though. They’re, well, slow and gentle and passionate, still. This is the right way to start mending their relationship.

“Ash,” Michael pulls back a little, but Ashton just starts nipping at his jaw and then kissing over it. “I should go, babe.”

“Mmm, no. Stay for the night,” he says against Michael’s neck.

Michael completely pulls back now, even gets off of Ashton and off of the couch. “I- No- We- Not yet.”

“Oh.” Ashton sits up. “Um, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Uh, yeah. I’ll call you.”

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight.”

Michael starts to the door, but turns back quickly and gives Ashton a farewell kiss.

“Goodnight, Mikey,” Ashton smiles.

“Goodnight, Ash,” Michael returns the smile. Then, he really walks out the door.

He’s cursing himself once he gets outside the building because _shit_ he forgot that he doesn’t have a car. He knows that if he goes back up to Ashton’s, though, he won’t be able to leave again. Michael opts for waiting on the bus.

-

Michael gets back to Luke’s dorm to find Luke sitting at the desk, doing schoolwork. 

“Hey,” Luke looks up from his notebook and lifts his water bottle to take a drink. “You were gone a while.”

Michael doesn’t supply any details, but surprises Luke with, “I think you should give Calum another chance.”

Luke literally spits out the water in his mouth, thankfully directed away from his papers. “ _What?_ ”

“You made me give Ashton another chance. I mean, it’s kind of the same situation, don’t you think?”

“No! Ashton was doing it purely for money, Calum was doing it-”

“To impress you?”

“But you _hate_ Calum.”

“But I think Calum really likes you. And I know you really like Calum.”

Luke mumbles something under his breathe. Michael throws his arms around the blond from behind.

“The guy actually apologized to me today, Lukey. And I’m almost 100 percent sure that it was to get on my good side so I would mediate for him. He asked me to tell you that he’s sorry. I wasn’t going to tell you, but I was thinking, I might’ve done the same thing, y’know? The dude’s never liked a guy before, and then you come along and make him question everything? I think he just wanted to be perfect for you, Luke, no matter how big of an asshole he is to me.”

“I have _no_ idea why you are trying to convince me of such things. But, since you are, I’ll give him another chance. _Only_ because I know it would take a lot for you to defend him.”

Michael tightens his grip around Luke and smiles to himself. He just hopes that he’s right about Calum.

-

Luke wakes up at some ungodly hour in the morning before the suns even up because he has some nerd convention to go to (“ _it’s a meeting for chemical engineers to network with big companies for future jobs,_ ” Luke had said.) Since Michael is a clingy sleeper, Luke ends up waking him up too, just trying to remove himself from Michael’s grip. And, because Luke’s a dick, he turns on the bright, overhead light to get dressed, and Michael can’t get back to sleep.

So, Michael gets up and gets ready, deciding to surprise Ashton with coffee. He goes to the coffee shop, gets a hot chocolate and a coffee, and catches the bus to Ashton’s. He doesn’t realize until he’s standing outside of the apartment building that Ashton’s coffee is cold by now, but it’s the thought that counts, right? 

Michael knows where the spare key is, obviously. He reaches above the doorframe and grabs it, quietly unlocking the apartment door. 

He makes his way to Ashton’s bedroom and turns the handle on the door to reveal Ashton in bed, asleep, and-

Michael’s breath catches in his throat.


	11. Love

Michael is overwhelmed because _this is the picture_.

Ashton looks so _beautiful_. The sun has begun to rise and it’s lighting up Ashton’s room perfectly. He’s sprawled out on the bed, only half covered by his grey sheets so that his bare chest is on display. His lips are parted a bit, and his hair is flopped over on the pillow.

Michael quietly sets down the coffee cups on the bedside table and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He knows that the camera in his phone is nowhere near the quality of his _actual_ camera, but it’s all he has right now, and he knows _this is the picture_. This is love, to Michael, and this is the picture he’ll turn in for photography class (even if the old man had a better story.)

Michael realizes that he’d just mentally described Ashton as _love_ and he smiles to himself as he snaps the photo. Then, he slowly crawls onto the bed beside Ashton and lies down. Ashton stirs slightly, eyebrows pulling together but his eyes remain closed.

“Ash,” Michael whispers, runnings his fingertips over Ashton’s exposed chest.

“Mikey?” Ash replies with a sleepy whisper.

“It’s me,” Michael assures him before lifting his head and placing it on Ashton’s shoulder.

Ashton groans. “You’re freezing.”

“That’s why I got in bed with you.”

Ashton grunts. He turns onto his side and flings his arm over Michael’s waist, pulling the younger boy flush against his warm body. “S’too early to be awake.”

“The sky’s awake, so I’m awake!” Michael immediately regrets saying this and blushes. What is it with him and saying these dumb lines from dumb movies?

Ashton lets out a loud laugh though, finally opening his eyes to peek at Michael. “I love you.” 

Ashton’s face drops as soon as he’s said it. He hadn’t meant to, it just slipped out. Michael’s eyes widen a bit and Ashton quickly pushes himself away from Michael.

“Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t...” Ashton trails off. He gets up, sitting on the edge of the bed so his back is to Michael.

Michael doesn’t know what to say, because Ashton _loves_ him? Did he really love him? Or was it like ‘I love kittens’ where you don’t _really love_ kittens but you say it because they’re so cute? 

Instead of addressing it, Michael just says, “That coffee is for you. It might be cold...sorry.” 

Michael gets out of the bed and walks out of the bedroom. He takes a seat on the couch. He doesn’t want to leave, Ashton didn’t do anything _wrong_ , so he just waits for Ashton to come out with an explanation.

It takes a few moments, but when Ashton does come out to face Michael, he doesn’t look much different than he had in bed. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs and his glasses. His hair is a mess, but now he looks wide awake.

Ashton stands just outside of the doorway, but he’s staring Michael down. 

“I love you,” Ashton says for the second time.

Michael looks just as shocked to hear it this time as he had before.

Ashton lets out a short laugh and shrugs. “I love you. And you don’t have to say it back and I know there’s a lot going on right now but, I do. I love you.”

Michael hadn’t even _thought_ about everything that had been going on until Ashton brought it up. So, Michael decides its not quite time for him to admit that the first thing he thought when he saw Ashton this morning was _this is what love looks like_. He does however, stand up and cross the room. He grabs Ashton’s face and kisses him. And he kisses Ashton _hard_ because he’s not ready to say _I love you too_ but he needs Ashton to know that he truly does care for him. Ashton starts to take over the kiss as if to say _I know_.

And then Ashton’s pushing him back towards the couch, whining “S’not fair, too many clothes” against the other boy’s mouth and tugging at the flannel Michael’s wearing. Michael huffs out a laugh and unhooks one of the buttons before Ashton’s just pulling it over his head.

Michael loses track of what’s happening. He’s on his back on the couch one minute and the next, Ashton is unbuttoning his jeans and slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of Michael’s boxers.

“No,” Michael pushes Ashton back and squeezes out from under the older boy. “Not yet.”

Ashton is left half-sitting, half-lying on the couch. His cheeks go pink and he looks down at the floor. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s just... We’re _starting over_ , remember? We need to slow this down. We need to do this right.”

Ashton’s still frowning, so Michael adds, “What’re you doing tonight?”

Ashton perks up a bit, “My friend’s throwing a party tonight. Do you want to go?”

Michael manages to get out a “sure” before he lets out a big yawn.

“C’mon,” Ashton says. He gets up off of the couch and pushes Michael towards the bedroom. “Get some sleep. I’ve got to get to work soon.”

Michael narrows his eyes a bit and Ashton pecks him on the lips.

“Real work, at the deli. I promise.”

Michael doesn’t argue, just lies down on the bed and lets Ashton pull the sheet up over him. He rolls onto his side so he can see Ashton, who is now pulling on a pair of pants, but his eyes begin to droop until he can’t keep them open any longer.

-

Michael wakes up a few hours later, happily consumed by the smell of Ashton on the pillow and in the sheets. He closes his eyes, deciding to take in the scent for a few more minutes, which turn into another half-hour. He finally stretches, though, and gets out of the bed.

He’s not sure what to do, still doesn’t feel 100 percent comfortable in Ashton’s apartment. Michael decides to look over Ashton’s paintings again. He opens the closet door and pulls out the first painting. It’s new, however, and only half of it is painted. Literally, the top half of the canvas looks to be completed, while the bottom half is blank. First, Michael thinks _who the hell paints like this_? If Michael were painting a portrait, he’d start with the basic outline of the person and then work on features, finishing with the background - not everything all at once, from top to bottom. 

Even with the incompleteness of it, Michael can tell it’s undeniably him. The hair is dark purple, sticking out in every direction. The eyes are a mixture of green and grey, just what Michael sees when he looks in the mirror. He’s happy to know that Ashton appears to be honoring the deal they made.

Michael’s stomach growls, so he puts the painting back and goes to the kitchen to look for food. He decides on a bowl of Lucky Charms and sits down on the couch. He turns on the television, and watches a dumb sitcom until Ashton gets home.

-

Ashton’s tied a black bandana around Michael’s head and Michael had laughed and said, “I look ridiculous.”

Ashton responded with, “You look adorable,” and then kissed the younger boy on the tip of his nose.

And now they were standing on the porch of the house where the party was at. Ashton opens the door and Michael follows him in. It’s dark inside the house, multicolored lights are the only thing illuminating the room, besides the glow of cell phones. Michael presses himself up against Ashton’s back as he starts to feel a little anxious because this party seems so much worse than the last one, the one that led to his first kiss with Ashton.

Ashton’s shouting happily over the music at a few people who approach him. Michael doesn’t pay much attention, his eyes are scanning the house. He sees Luke across the room, who gives a smile and a small wave. Luke’s being pulled through the room, and Michael notices that his hand is tightly held by another man. The man turns his head - it’s Calum. Michael smiles a bit because _Luke had listened_. And, Calum is _holding Luke’s hand_ in _public_. 

Then, Michael feels Ashton tense up.

Michael refocuses on Ashton. There’s a different guy standing in front of them now. 

“How much for the night?” the guy asks.

“I’m not working,” Ashton mumbles just loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Oh, am I too late? Did this one already pay you?” he asks, motioning to Michael.

“Let’s _go_ , Mikey,” Ashton says and tries to pull Michael away from the scene.

“He’s not an _item_. I didn’t _pay for him_ ,” Michael steps up to the asshole that’s harassing Ashton. 

The guy laughs and puts his hands in the air in fake surrender. “Calm down, man. I hear he’s good but no slut is worth you getting your ass kicked.”

Michael’s never been in a fight before. The only thing he has going for him is the fact that he’s got some height, and his hair color and eyebrow piercing make him look tough. He doesn’t even have any alcohol in his system. But Michael snaps.

Michael swings his fist as hard as he can and it lands right in the center of the other guy’s face. The guy goes to retaliate, pulling his fist back, but then there’s another person between he and Michael. The person who's just interjected yells something at the guy and then he’s shoving Michael towards the door and out onto the porch.

“You’re lucky, you know? That guy could’ve killed you.” And it’s Calum. “Get out of here.”

Michael opens his mouth to protest, or thank Calum, or _something_ , but Ashton’s grabbed his arm and is pulling him towards the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I apologize for leaving you with a cliffhanger on the last chapter, which turned out to not be as exciting as you were hoping for.  
> Second, thank you to everyone who's still reading this, and thank you to all of you who have been faithfully commenting! I LOVE reading your feedback!


	12. Best I've Ever Had

Ashton’s driving away from the party and Michael’s sitting slumped over in the passenger seat. It’s too quiet, the radio isn’t even on, seeing as Ashton had slammed his hand down on the button to turn it off as soon as they got in the car. The streetlights light up the car enough for Michael to see that Ashton’s knuckles are white from his tight grip on the steering wheel.

Michael wants to say something, wants to apologize, but he’s _not sorry_. Ashton doesn’t deserve the treatment he got back there. He knows Ashton is angry with him, but Ashton seems almost _too_ angry with him. Michael is just about to reach over and take Ashton’s hand in apology, but Ashton quickly swerves off onto the shoulder of the road. 

Ashton takes his hands off of the steering wheel only to slam them back down against it. Next, he flings his head forward so it meets the wheel with a loud _crack_ and he leaves his forehead resting against it. Ashton’s whole body starts to shake and small sobs begin erupting from his mouth.

“Ash,” Michael whispers and places his hand on Ashton’s back.

Ashton rips his head up to look at Michael, eyes almost glowing with intensity. “Do you think I wanted to do it? Do you think I _like_ fucking random people? Do you think it’s _fun_ letting disgusting assholes like that do whatever they want to me? It’s _fucking awful_ , Michael! And you, you just acted like I had a choice! I didn’t have a choice! I needed the money! And it _sucked_.” There are tears streaming down Ashton’s cheeks and his face is completely twisted up in anger and hurt. 

Michael doesn’t know what to say. He really doesn’t know what to do, either, but he knows he needs to do _something_. So, Michael attempts to climb over the center console and onto Ashton. He’s sure he looks stupid and he knows the older boy would laugh at him in any other situation. However, Ashton just keeps on crying as Michael situates himself in Ashton’s lap and tries to curl his legs up in a somewhat comfortable position. His body is trapped between the steering wheel and Ashton’s chest. Ashton wraps his arms around Michael and tries to pull him closer, burying his head in Michael’s neck. Michael brings his hands up and runs them soothingly through the brown curls on Ashton’s head, places his lips against Ashton’s temple.

“I’m sorry...” Michael whispers against Ashton’s skin. “For making you feel like that. But you should’ve just come to me...I could’ve helped-”

“I didn’t even _know_ you when I started! This is my third year in college and the deli was never going to be enough to pay for school and a place to live and a car. And I didn’t have anyone else to go to. And maybe at first I _did_ kind of like it because I felt like someone _wanted_ me. They never wanted me, though. No one wants me because I’m a broke _slut_ who’s complete shit at art.”

Michael would slap Ashton right now, but the cramped space of the car would prevent him from bringing his hand back. “Don’t say that. _I_ want you-”

“No you don’t. I was so stupid. I knew better than to fall in love with you. I knew you’d never love me back.”

“What the _hell_ are you talking about? If I didn’t love you, do you think I would be trying so hard to get you out of prostitution? Do you think I would’ve punched that guy if I didn’t love you? I’ve never punched someone before! And Calum was right, he would’ve kicked my ass! But I love you, so I didn’t care!”

Ashton seems unfazed by Michael’s confession, still crying hysterically. Michael opens the car door and gets out. He unbuckles Ashton’s seatbelt and demands, “Get out of the car.”

Ashton shakes his head so Michael grabs his forearm and starts jerking on the older boy as hard as he can. To people driving by, this probably looks abusive, but Michael needs to get Ashton home _now_ and Ashton is in no state to drive. Ashton finally gives in, getting out of the vehicle and stomping around to the other side. He opens the door, gets in, and slams the door shut. Then, he crosses his arms over his chest and pouts, looking down at his lap. 

He’s acting like a child, and Michael makes a mental note to tease Ashton about it in the morning.

Michael gets behind the steering wheel and takes them both to Ashton’s apartment. As soon as Michael parks the car, Ashton is throwing the car door open and slamming it shut again, sprinting towards the building. Michael takes a deep breath before, more calmly, following the path Ashton took. Ashton had left the apartment door unlocked, so Michael easily pushed open the door and entered the pitch black room. He felt his way along the wall until he got to Ashton’s bedroom. 

The bedroom blinds were pulled back, so the moonlight let a blue glow wash over the room. Ashton was already curled up in the bed, his clothes in a pile on the floor. With a deep breath, Michael unbuckled his belt and slipped out of his jeans before joining Ashton.

Michael pushed himself up against Ashton’s back and put his lips against the shell of the older boy’s ear. “I’m sorry.”

Ashton turned to face Michael. His eyebrows were pulled together and his eyes were wide and watery. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Michael stroked Ashton’s cheek gently with the backs of his fingers.

Ashton looked away from Michael’s eyes. “That you love me?”

“Of course,” Michael places a small kiss on Ashton’s lips. “I love you.”

Ashton swings his leg up so he can straddle Michael. Then he’s kissing the boy with the purple hair.

“Why didn’t you take this off, too?” Ashton asks against Michael’s lips, pulling at Michael’s shirt.

“Just wanted to piss you off,” Michael smiles, but sits up enough so that Ashton can fully yank the shirt over his head.

Ashton’s kissing him again. He moves his lips over Michael’s jaw and down to his throat, right beside his Adam’s apple. Ashton begins to bite a bit, intending to leave Michael with a mark.

“I’m ready,” Michael breathes out. 

Ashton knows just what he’s referring to. However, as soon as Ashton moves his hand down and starts palming Michael through his boxers, Michael’s body goes rigid. 

It’s not that Michael was lying, he _is_ ready for this. He’s just terrified. And Ashton can sense it.

“We can still do this slow,” Ashton says, lips moving back up to Michael’s mouth. “I’ll just get you off this time and we’ll see what happens next time.”

Michael doesn’t really have time to think about it. Ashton’s kissing and licking his way down Michael chest. He pulls Michael’s boxers down and-

Michael’s mind explodes, a pleased groan falls from his lips.

-

When Michael wakes up the next morning, he can smell coffee brewing and hears birds happily chirping outside of the window.

He gets up and doesn’t see his boxers anywhere, so he rifles through Ashton’s dresser until he finds a pair of the older boy’s boxer-briefs and pulls them on. He walks out of the bedroom and finds Ashton humming along to the radio that is softly playing in the background as he scoots around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. He's only wearing a pair of sweatpants which are hanging  _just right_ on his hips.

Michael approaches him and presses his chest into Ashton’s back, wrapping his arms around his waist. He presses a few kisses down on Ashton’s shoulders and mumbles, “Thank you. For last night.”

Ashton giggles. “It was only a blowjob.”

“The best one I’ve ever had, though.”

Ashton giggles again. “Well, thank you.”

Michael reaches around him and grabs a piece of bacon that Ashton had just fished out of the pan and set on a plate. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Just bacon. And coffee. Unless you want cereal. You know what happened last time I tried to cook.”

Michael smiles, remembering that day. He walks to the refrigerator and pulls out the gallon of chocolate milk on the top shelf.

“Pour me a glass too, please?” Ashton asks.

So, Michael pours two glasses of chocolate milk and sits down at the small table with them. Shortly, Ashton joins him and sets the plate of bacon down between the two of them. They eat peacefully, as if the screaming and fighting hadn’t happened last night. This is how Michael wants it to be, always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I've posted a day early! :)


	13. The Going Rate

Michael returns to Luke’s dorm on Sunday afternoon because he has some schoolwork to get done and also, he wants to see how things are going with Luke and Calum. But, mostly due to the latter. Luke isn’t in his room when Michael arrives, however, so Michael gets started on typing the essay that he is supposed to have done by tomorrow. 

Michael only has a couple of paragraphs down before the door is swinging open and two boys are stumbling in, Calum’s hands all over Luke and their lips connected. They jump apart a bit when they realize the light is on, which means _Michael must be in here_.

“Um,” Luke clears his throat. “Hi.”

“Hey?” Michael replies.

Calum wraps his arm around Luke’s waist and pulls the blond boy closer to him again. “I told you we should’ve just went to my room,” he whisper into Luke’s ear, but Michael can still hear it.

“It’s okay. He won’t mind,” Luke assures Calum and then they’re back to kissing and Luke’s pulling the other towards his bed.

“ _Seriously_?” Michael shrieks. “I _sleep_ in that bed!” And then he’s slamming his laptop closed and _getting out_ of that room.

Michael decides to go to the coffee shop. He orders a hot chocolate and sits at the table in front of the big window where he and Luke used to meet before they were living together. He figures that his friend and Calum are doing pretty well.

-

Although Michael _knows_ that this essay is absolute _shit_ because he’d just written the entire thing in a couple of hours, he knows that he should be trying a little harder, so he’s still sitting in the coffee shop, proofreading his work. His phone chimes and vibrates next to him on the table. Ashton’s name is on the screen.

“Hey,” Michael smiles as he answers the phone.

“Mikey?” Ashton’s voice is small and it almost sounds like he’s _whimpering_.

“Ash? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Michael’s smile falls from his face.

Ashton doesn’t completely reply. He’s mumbling and Michael can tell that the boy on the other end of the line is definitely crying.

“I’m coming over, okay? Stay there.”

Ashton manages an affirmation so Michael hangs up and grabs his laptop before jogging out of the coffee shop. He knows the bus will take too long to get to Ashton’s apartment, but he doesn’t have another choice. Walking would triple his travel time. 

So, Michael’s sitting on the bus drumming his fingers against his thigh and that’s when he realizes that he’s shaking. What could be wrong with Ashton? He’d only left a few hours ago and Ashton was all lazy smiles and sweet kisses. Did he try to cook something again and burn it? Did he screw up his painting? Did some jerk, like the one from the previous night, try calling him? Michael decides that, yeah, it was probably just some asshole that called and upset Ashton. _He’s okay. He’ll be alright._

The bus stops outside of Ashton’s building, and Michael is flying out of the vehicle. He runs up the stairs and almost trips, but manages to catch himself. Ashton’s door isn’t unlocked, so Michael’s knocking frantically. Ashton slowly cracks the door open and Michael shoves his way in. Ashton’s eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks are stained from the tears. When Michael looks him in the eye, new tears form and spill over his raw cheeks. Michael immediately wraps his arms around Ashton and pulls him into his chest. Ashton lets all of his weight rest on Michael, so Michael gently lowers them both to the floor. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here,” Michael soothes as he repositions the pair of them so that Ashton is sitting more comfortably in his lap. 

After Ashton has calmed down a bit, Michael pulls back and runs his thumbs over Ashton’s cheeks to clear the tears. 

“I love you,” Ashton whispers.

Michael gives him a small smile and kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“My, um... My mom is in the hospital.”

“What happened?” Michael asks cautiously.

“I don’t know. I don’t _know,_ ” Ashton squeaks out, and he’s trying his hardest to hold back the oncoming flood of tears. “They just- She just got _really sick_ all of the sudden and now she...”

Michael takes Ashton’s hands in his as the older boy squeezes his eyes shut.

“They said there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know _what_ to do. I have to go see her.”

Michael’s a bit confused, because this is the woman who shut Ashton out, who drove him to _prostitution_. But, he supposes, she is Ashton’s _mom_ afterall, and that’s not an expendable position.

“Okay, I’ll come with you.”

“ _No_!” Ashton shouts and shakes his head.

Michael’s taken aback. “Oh... Um, okay. I’ll just... I’ll get you a bag packed.”

Michael slides Ashton out of his lap and leaves the boy to curl up on the floor. He heads to Ashton’s room and opens the closet to find a duffle bag. He packs it with clothes, and tops it off with Ashton’s headphones and iPod before pulling his own shirt over his head, folding it up, and placing it on top of everything. He zips it up and grabs one of Ashton’s shirts to replace the one he’d just given up. 

Michael walks out of the bedroom and sets the bag down beside the apartment door. 

“Where’s your mom?” Michael asks softly, crouching down beside Ashton who still lies in a pile on the floor.

“New York.”

“Alright, let’s get you a ticket.”

“I can do it myself,” Ashton snaps and hops onto his feet. He quickly makes his way over to the door and pulls on his shoes. He grabs his bag and jerks open the door, no goodbye to Michael.

“Ash, wait!” Michael calls after him.

“ _What_?” Ashton jerks around to face him.

“At least let me drive you to the airport.”

“ _No_. I’m not a child!” Ashton turns away from Michael. 

“I love you,” Michael declares, a sad tone to his words.

Ashton’s still got his back to Michael. His words sound hard, next. “I love you, too.” And then he’s jetting down the stairs.

Michael just drags himself back through Ashton’s apartment to his bedroom. He flops down on the bed and buries his face in the pillows and tries to just breathe in _Ashton_. He knows that Ashton’s only acting awful like this because he’s terrified.

Michael’s thinking about how sad he is and how he just wants to hold Ashton and then he realizes that Ashton’s mother is _dying_. So Michael’s thoughts go to her and he just hopes for the best for her _and_ Ashton.

-

Michael makes it back to Luke’s dorm, but he’s sort of _out of it_ , thinking of Ashton and his family. He’s still dragging his feet. When he opens the door to the dorm room, Calum and Luke are on the bed giggling and there’s a movie playing on the television.

“Sorry,” Calum apologizes. “I should probably go.”

“It’s okay,” Michael says flatly. “I can sleep in my actual room.”

He starts to leave, but Luke is quick on his feet and grabs at Michael’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Ashton left. His mom’s sick. He didn’t want me to come.”

Luke’s face falls in sympathy. He wraps Michael in a hug and pulls him towards the bed where Calum’s still lounging.

Luke’s bed is bigger than average since he doesn’t have a roommate. So, Michael ends up squashed between the wall and Luke, and Luke is sandwiched in the warmth of Michael on his right and Calum on his left.

“It’ll be okay,” Luke tries to ease Michael’s racing mind. “He’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Michael nods, because he wants Luke to stop worrying about him.

-

Ashton’s thankful that Michael let him go easily. He’s glad that Michael didn’t ask him if he was going to be able to afford the plane ticket, because _no_. He was going to have to make a visit before he could buy the ticket. He checked the flight times on his phone and saw he had a good few hours before the plane would depart. He had time to get the money.

Ashton dialed the number in his phone that he was hopeful he’d never have to use again. The voice he’d heard, fighting with his boyfriend, last night answered the phone.

“450. For two hours. If you’re still interested,” Ashton said through gritted teeth. He could tell the man on the other end had a disgusting grin on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was a day late! I've been super busy the past few days!  
> Thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter, I know I'm terrible about replying! :(  
> Tell me your feelings - do you hate me after this update?


	14. Only Words Bleed

Ashton doesn’t call.

Ashton doesn’t answer Michael’s calls.

Ashton is breaking Michael’s heart.

 

Michael’s staying in his own dorm again, because Calum’s in Luke’s dorm _all the time_. They are always giggling and kissing and Michael can’t _take it_ because he’s supposed to have that with _Ashton_ right now. So, Luke doesn’t really notice when Michael’s life starts to go downhill.

Michael can barely function. He’s not eating right - maybe a small bowl of macaroni and cheese or a bowl of cereal a day. Ashton’s been gone for two weeks and Michael knows that if things keep going this way, he’s going to be unhealthily skinny before long. He’s falling behind on his schoolwork - projects, whether it be an essay on the effects of global warming or a nature painting, always end up being sad and torn and about _Ashton_. 

It’s stupid. It’s stupid because Ashton had only been his boyfriend for a short while. Were they even boyfriends? Michael wasn’t supposed to _need_ him like this, regardless.

Michael is sitting in his dorm room, although he’s supposed to be in sculpting class right now. Michael wasn’t really a fan of sculpture anyway. He’s got his laptop resting on his thighs, and he’s googling for sad poetry. He takes a sip from the small apple juice box that he picked up from the dining center earlier when there’s a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Michael mumbles.

He looks up as the door starts to open. Now standing just inside the room is a muscular man, soft brown curls on his head and simple glasses shielding tired eyes. _Ashton._ Michael slowly stands up, sets his laptop in the chair, and approaches Ashton. He places his hands on the sides of Ashton’s neck, uses his thumbs to rub under hiss chin as he examines the older boy’s face.

“Ash,” he whispers before wrapping Ashton in a hug. The tears immediately start for both of the boys.

Ashton pushes his hands up under the back of Michael’s shirt so he can gently rub his back. “I’m sorry.”

“I love you so much. Don’t leave me again.”

“Um,” Ashton pulls away and swallows. “Actually, that’s what I need to talk to you about.”

Michael thinks he knows what’s coming. “You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you? Because I called too much? I’m too clingy?”

“No,” Ashton laughs, but it’s not a real, genuine laugh. He pulls Michael towards the futon and sits down. He’s waiting for Michael to sit next to him, but he doesn’t so Ashton yanks him down into his lap.

“My mother, um,” Ashton shakes his head and looks down, not able to finish his thought just yet.

Michael understands though, knows that Ashton’s mom must be gone. “I’m so sorry, Ash.”

“No,” Ashton shakes his head again. “I just- I need to take care of my brother and sister. There isn’t anyone else.”

Michael wants to ask about Ashton’s dad, but Ashton has never really mentioned him. Michael figures it must be a complicated situation and leaves it alone.

“I have to go to New York. For good. For now.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“No. It’s not that _easy_ , Mikey. You need to stay here. Finish school.”

“I don’t need it. I’m not learning anything that’s helping me at all with my art. You’d be the best teacher.”

“ _Michael_ ,” Ashton scolds. “You need to graduate.”

“I need _you_.”

“You’re not coming with me.” Ashton shoves Michael off of his lap and onto the futon before he stands up. “I came back to tell you goodbye. Mom gave me some money before she died so that I could hire a moving company to get my stuff to New York.”

Michael’s sobbing on the futon. It’s silent sobs, though. He doesn’t know what else to do. He’d told Ashton he loved him just before he left the last time. Now, he was leaving for good. How could he do this to Michael? Michael didn’t just walk around telling people he loved them! That’s exactly what he tries to tell Ashton.

“How can you do this to me? _I love you_.”

“This isn’t _about_ you, Mikey! I have a _family_ that needs me. You don’t need me!”

Then, Ashton’s on his knees in front of Michael, taking the younger boy’s hands in his own.

“Look,” Ashton starts. “You need to finish school. And after you graduate, if you still want to come to New York, then we can try it. But, you have to finish school here, okay? You’re going to need some way to support my broke ass.” Ashton smiles at the last part, but Michael’s not smiling back.

“What if you find someone else?” Michael whimpers.

Ashton sighs. “You deserve so much better than me, anyway, Mikey.”

“How can you say that?” Michael yells.

Ashton decides that maybe if Michael is mad at him, this whole thing will be easier. Ashton doesn’t _want_ Michael to be disappointed in him, but he’d rather Michael be angry with him instead of heartbroken.

“I had to start again,” Ashton whispers. “I needed money for the plane ticket.”

“ _What_? Ash, you can’t. You have to stop. Leave me! Go to New York! But, you have to stop doing this! Please! _Please_.” Michael’s just realized that he’d grabbed Ashton by the shoulders and had been violently shaking the older boy.

“Okay, _okay_. I’m done for real, this time. I have a job interview in two days. And, I’ll keep painting...” _I’ll keep painting you_ , he wants to say. He knows that’s dangerous, though. He knows Michael won’t let him leave if he says it. “I’ll keep painting. I’ll paint my little brother and sister.”

Michael just nods. He’s moved his hands up to cradle Ashton’s face. They’re both crying and _this shouldn’t be so hard_ because they really _don’t_ know each other that well. But, they kind of do. Michael doesn’t know Ashton’s mom’s name. He doesn’t know why Ashton’s dad couldn’t take care of his kids. He didn’t even know how many siblings Ashton had until just now. But, Michael knows that Ashton’s favorite brand of beer is Corona. He knows that Ashton’s eyes are a honey brown when he’s excited but go hazel when he’s calm. He knows that Ashton _hates_ painting with pastels. Michael knows how Ashton tastes and how it feels to sleep next to him and what it’s like to eat breakfast with him.

And Michael’s about to know how it feels to lose Ashton.

“Will you drive me to the airport?” Ashton asks.

Michael nods. Ashton pulls him forward into his arms and they sit there, hugging, for a few minutes while they both compose themselves.

-

It isn’t until they are standing in the busy airport that Michael realizes Ashton is wearing one of Michael’s shirts - the one he’d packed when he’d made up Ashton’s ‘overnight’ bag two weeks ago. He gives it a small tug.

“This looks good on you.”

Ashton smiles. “Thanks. It’s my boyfriends.” The smile falls at the term ‘boyfriend’, though. Michael catches it, too.

“C’mon,” Michael takes Ashton’s hand and leads him through the crowd of people. He’s looking for a somewhat secluded spot, but LAX is ridiculous and there are people in every nook, literally. 

Whatever. Michael doesn’t care, now. He pushes Ashton up against a wall and leans forward slowly, unsure if he’s still allowed to kiss him. Ashton can see the uncertainty so he tangles his fingers in Michael’s dark purple hair and pulls his face closer. Their lips meet and it’s sweet and gentle but passionate and a bit needy at the same time. It’s everything Michael had expected from a kiss like this, the final kiss. It’s _farewell_ and _I’ll see you again._ It’s _I loved you_ and _I still love you_. It’s _I won’t forget you_ and _I can’t forget you_. 

There’s an announcement, the final boarding call. Ashton has to go. He pulls back a bit, strokes the side of Michael’s face.

“I love you,” Michael says, his voice shaky. He’s crying again, and Ashton’s fighting to hold back his own tears.

“I love you,” Ashton whispers back. He grabs Michael’s hands and gives them one last squeeze. Then, he turns and walks down the tunnel that will lead him to the airplane.

Michael’s frozen in place, staring at the air where Ashton once was, until the tears dry up and the pain in his chest becomes too much.

And Ashton’s gone. _For good. For now._


	15. As Fate Would Have It

The days go by. They continue like the two weeks before Ashton left for good. _For good. For now._ The words keep playing back in Michael’s mind.  ****

The months go by. Luke and Calum are inseparable. They’ve tried numerous times to set Michael up with people. All Michael can think about is Ashton.

Michael still talks to Ashton some, he’s finally answering Michael’s calls. But, as time goes on, their calls become less and less often until they aren’t talking at all.

The years go by. Michael gets partnered with an English major, he has to do the illustrations for the children’s book she was assigned to compose for one of her writing classes. Michael’s work gets attention. Michael’s work gets him a job offer, everything is set up for when he graduates.

Michael’s hair goes to pink and then platinum blond. Then, it’s red before he goes to lilac purple. He dyes it black the day before graduation. 

And Michael’s graduating college, with an art degree. His parents fly out from Australia and they take too many pictures of him and pictures of him with Luke and Calum. Michael’s smile is real, too, because maybe life is falling together. 

In two weeks, Michael is moving to New York. He was offered a job at a publishing company as an illustrator for children’s books, and he was so, so excited. He hasn’t talked to Ashton is two years, two full years. He’s not expecting to talk to him ever again, either. And, Michael’s not okay with that, but he’s dealing with it.

-

Michael’s downtown apartment is perfect. It’s small, but big enough for him. It’s old, but comfortable - the walls are all brick and it has a lofty feel to it. Michael is even allowed to have a cat, so of course he gets a kitten. He names him Cliff. The only thing missing is someone to share this all with.

Michael works on the twelfth floor of a tall, grey building. He gets his own office, and if he looks out of the large, picture window he can see the busy street below. It’s nothing like Michael ever imagined for himself.

It’s only Michael’s third day on the job and he’s already kind of a big deal. The book he’s working on is really cute, so he gets to draw really cute things, and everyone loves his work. All of his co-workers fawn over him and _maybe_ Michael is starting to fawn over one of them in return. And _maybe_ when this guy, Nick, asks Michael to go to a gallery show with him, Michael gets butterflies. He definitely says yes.

-

Michael had stood in front of the mirror in his apartment, asking Cliff for advice on what to wear to the gallery show. Michael was an artist - did these people dress like him, skinny jeans and band t-shirts? Or were they classy and fancy and dressed in evening gowns and tuxedos? Michael decided that he didn’t care, the only person he was trying to impress was his date. So, Michael dressed in his normal attire, because that’s what Nick had liked him in, in the first place.

But, here Michael was, standing in a room filled with people in evening gowns and tuxedos, him in his ripped, black jeans and Metallica shirt. Nick had laughed a bit when he picked Michael up, but insisted that he looked _perfect_. Michael kind of felt like an idiot right now.

Michael and Nick walked along the room, stopping to view the various art pieces. Michael pretended to be interested but really, he hated everything he’d seen. Michael liked paintings of people and landscapes, not weird shapes and random lines. They are ‘abstract’, maybe, but it’s not Michael’s style. Now, however, they stood in front of a painting hanging on the wall. The painting was of a man holding a small girl in his arms, both facing forward so Michael could see that their eyes were a matching shade of green. _Father and daughter_ , Michael thought, just glad to find some artwork that he could understand. It took him a full minute to realize that the _father’s_ hair was a dark purple, lips bright red, stubble apparent on his jaw and chin. And the eyes were his. 

“That actually looks a lot like you!” Nick smiles at Michael.

Michael wasn’t paying him any attention though because _no shit_ , it _is_ Michael.

No, no. It couldn’t be Michael. Because Michael didn’t have a _daughter_. It was just some strange coincidence that this artist had painted someone who looked very similar to him.

He looks for the gold plaque that all of the other pieces had, had near them, denoting the artist. On the floor, below the painting, was the plaque, face down like it had fallen. Michael bends down to pick it up, hand shaking a bit because _what if_? He reaches for the sliver of metal only to have a small hand slip beneath his and grab it first. Michael looks up, eyes meeting those of the small person beside him, almost like looking into a mirror. Her eyes are green, _Michael’s_ green. She’s the girl from the painting. 

The little girl takes off running and Michael keeps his eyes on her. She has long, blonde hair, fair skin, and Michael estimates that she is about six or seven years old. She’s wearing a lavender dress that swishes behind her as she runs towards a small group of people who look to be engaged in quite an entertaining conversation. She crashes into the back of a man’s legs. He wears black slacks and a baby blue dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There’s a mess of brown curls on top of his head. The man turns around and crouches down to speak with the little girl. Simple glasses rest on his nose. He’s smiling at the little girl, and all Michael can think, once again, is _dimples._ Michael’s subconsciously walking to the girl and the man. The girl hands the man the name plaque she’d stolen from Michael and the man looks up to find Michael now standing right beside the two of them. Michael’s eyes are filled with tears.

“Mikey?” The man stands slowly.

“Ash,” he breathes out.

Ashton reaches out for Michael, gently caresses his face as if making sure that the man in front of him is real. Michael mirrors his actions.

“You came for me,” Ashton whispers, eyes welling up with tears, too.

He didn’t come to New York in hopes of finding Ashton, though. _Right?_ Michael had assured himself that he was moving to New York for the _job_. But, over the past four years, New York had sounded like an absolute dream when it never had before. Michael _could’ve_ stayed in Los Angeles, and there was Chicago and Boston and Dallas and Miami, but Michael was drawn to New York, and he was just realizing why.

“I missed you,” Michael quietly replies.

Ashton nods and leans forward to rest his forehead against Michael’s. Of course they hadn’t noticed, but the entire gallery had fallen silent and all eyes were on them, including those that matched Michael’s and belonged to a little girl.

The girl yanks on Ashton’s pant leg to get his attention. “Daddy?” He pulls back from Michael to look at her and Michael’s eyes widen because _daddy_? “Is he the prince?”

Ashton let out a watery laugh before bending down and picking her up. “Yeah, baby. This is the prince. His name is Michael.”

Michael is utterly confused, but he greets the girl properly. “Hi. What’s your name?”

The girl turns from Michael and buries her head in Ashton’s neck, but she has a small smile on her face.

“C’mon, sweetie,” Ashton urges.

She slowly lifts her head back up and looks at Michael. He gives her a wide smile which causes her to giggle. “I’m Abigail.”

Ashton gives her a kiss on the cheek and she responds by grabbing his face between her small hands and giving his cheek a kiss as well. Ashton is smiling, but when he looks to Michael again, his smile falls. 

“Um, can we talk somewhere?” Ashton asks.

Michael nods, completely forgetting about his date. “Sure.”

“Do you want to go get some ice cream?” Ashton asks Abigail. Her face lights up as she nods excitedly. 

-

The trio sits in an ice cream shop down the street from the gallery. Abigail has a small cone with lemon flavored ice cream, while both Ashton and Michael have chocolate shakes. They are catching up on everything that’s happened since they last spoke two years ago, Michael explaining his new job and Ashton talking about his successful career as a freelance artist. Michael learns that Ashton’s sister is a senior in high school and wants to go to college in Los Angeles, and that his brother is still young but loves to help Ashton out around the house. Michael is amazed that Ashton, at 24 years old, can manage to support two teenagers and a little girl on his own.

“So, um...” Michael trails off, not sure how to ask. He motions towards Abigail.

“Oh.” Ashton’s wide grin turns into a soft smile when he looks to the little girl who is happily licking at her ice cream. “I was doing a painting for an orphanage downtown. And, y’know, I didn’t know anything about orphanages and adoption. So, I decided to kind of hang out with some of the kids before I started, and then I saw her. And, um,” Ashton clears his throat. “I was, uh, having some problems. I went back to, um... I was working the streets again, and I couldn’t get out. But, then I saw Abigail at the orphanage and I saw _you_ everytime I looked in her eyes, and I knew. I knew that adopting her would make me stop. So, I did adopt her. And she’s been with me for a year and a half, and I haven’t slept with anyone since so.” Ashton laughs and shrugs.

Michael smiles and scoots his chair closer to Ashton. Then, he leans in and presses his lips to Ashton’s for the first time in over three years. Abigail’s giggling pulls them apart.

“Would you want to stay the night with us?” Ashton asks Michael.

“Of course.”

-

Michael walks into the cozy home behind Ashton, who is holding a sleepy-eyed Abigail. He follows the two into the kitchen, to find a teenage boy sitting at the table with a bowl of food in front of him. Abigail makes a little noise and Ashton puts her down before she’s trudging over to the boy at the table. He lifts her up and she snuggles into his lap.

“Hey, Harry,” Ashton greets the boy. And _oh, right_ he’s Ashton’s brother.

“Hey?” Harry says with a questioning tone.

“This is Michael,” Ashton introduces.

“Hi,” Michael smiles.

Harry’s eyes narrow, he doesn’t reply and he goes back to eating from the bowl on the table.

“Lauren’s at a friend’s house tonight,” Ashton tells Michael.

Ashton takes his hand and pulls him towards a different room, a bedroom. Michael sits on the bed and Ashton stands in front of him, between his legs. Ashton bends down and pecks Michael’s lips, but Michael grabs ahold of his shirt and pulls him back for a proper kiss.

“Later. I need to get Abigail to bed,” Ashton says and steps out of Michael’s grip.

Michael sighs, but smiles, and falls back so that he’s lying on the bed. Ashton leaves the room and returns thirty minutes later.

Michael’s got his eyes closed but he’s completely awake when Ashton collapses on top of him and starts nipping at Michael’s jaw.

“Missed you,” Ashton murmurs against Michael’s skin before he covers the gentle bits with wet kisses.

“Ash-” Michael cuts himself off with a deep groan when Ashton sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

“Hmm?” Ashton teases.

“What about the kids?” Michael asks, and then they are both laughing hysterically because _how weird does that sound_? And the moment is over but a new one has begun as Ashton pulls Michael up to the pillows on the bed and they intertwine their legs, lying in silence but eyes full of emotion.

“I love you,” Ashton says so lowly that Michael barely hears it.

Michael can’t help the smile that forms on his face. “I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for making everyone cry in the last chapter... :(  
> I hope this one made up for it!


	16. Stay With Me For All Of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is so jumpy! It was time for this story to end but there was so much that I wanted to quickly squeeze in. I ended up rewriting this four times, so I hope that it lives up to your expectations!

After the first night back with Ashton, Michael didn’t leave. Abigail and Lauren had both fallen in love with him. Harry, however, was still ignoring Michael unless he was making a rude comment about how shitty his hair looked or how unprofessional he dressed for work. (Lauren assured him that Harry was just being a protective brother and didn’t like anyone who threatened Ashton’s heart.) (Michael assured them that nothing was more precious to him than Ashton’s heart.)

Slowly, Michael’s things started moving into Ashton’s home until Michael’s apartment was bare. The final decision for Michael to officially move in with the Irwins came when Michael brought Cliff over. Abigail had latched onto the kitten and Ashton knew that he wasn’t going to let her lose Cliff, and he wasn’t going to let himself lose Michael again. And when Michael Skypes Luke and Calum that night and tells them the news, they both cheer and inform Michael that they have some big news themselves.

Calum beams and presses a quick kiss to the blond’s cheek as Luke blushes and smiles at the computer screen where Michael’s expectant face shows.

“We’re getting married,” Luke announces. “Not the whole doves and flowers and giant chapel thing, just something small. Well, maybe some flowers, but... Anyway, I want you to be my best man, of course.”

“I thought I was your best man,” Calum grumbles.

Luke grins and nudges him with his elbow before leaning in and pressing a kiss to Calum’s lips. Michael’s eyes are wide on the other side of the screen and he’s a bit speechless. All he knows is that these boys are totally in love and totally adorable and this is all _totally_ Michael’s doings.

Michael agrees and congratulates them, but then they are kissing again and Michael knows it’s time to say goodbye, so he does that too. Just as he’s closing his laptop, Ashton walks into the bedroom he now shares with Michael. 

“Hey, babe,” Ashton chirps. He walks over to the side of the bed where Michael’s been lounging. He takes off his glasses and sets them on the bedside table before he pulls his sweater over his head.

Michael smiles at him. He gets up from the bed and wraps his arms loosely around Ashton’s bare torso. He gives Ashton a chaste, but hard, kiss. Ashton whimpers in complaint, causing Michael to lean back in and slot their mouths together in a _real_ kiss.

“Did you already put Abigail to bed?” Michael asks when they pull apart.

“Yep.”

“You know I wanted to hear what happened to the prince next though,” Michael pouts. After accidentally eavesdropping on Abigail’s bedtime stories a few times, Michael had discovered that Ashton always told a different story about a prince, with crazy colored hair, who slays dragons and rescues other princes. (Michael’s favorite was the one where the prince falls in love with the stable boy who has curly hair and likes to paint.)

“You’re a dork,” Ashton grins. “I love you.”

“Mhm. Love you, too,” Michael replies and pulls him back into another kiss. “I’m ready.”

Ashton pulls completely back, holding Michael out, away from him. His eyes are wide and excited, a hopeful smile on his face. “Yeah?”

Michael laughs and nods. “Yeah.” And Michael sits back down on the bed and pulls Ashton down into his lap.

Ashton keeps whispering ‘I love you’, as if he’s scared that Michael’s going to disappear.

‘I love you,’ as he’s pulling off his clothes, as he’s pulling off Michael’s clothes.

‘I love you,’ as he’s kissing Michael’s neck, as he’s kissing down Michael’s chest.

‘I love you,’ as Michael’s watching him prep himself, as he rolls the condom onto Michael.

‘I love you,’ as he’s lowering himself onto Michael, as he surrounds Michael.

‘God, I love you,’ as he falls on top of the man he’s fallen in love with.

 

Michael’s dozed off, but he’s pulled from his light slumber by Ashton’s gently shaking him.

“Hm?” Michael groans.

“Put on some boxers,” Ashton says softly, places a kiss at the corner of Michael’s mouth.

“Why?” he whines.

“In case Abigail comes in, in the night.”

So, Michael sighs and gets up long enough to slip on a pair of boxers, but then he’s sliding back underneath the covers and pulling Ashton into his arms.

 

Michael ends up being glad that he’d done as Ashton said. At almost exactly three o’clock in the morning, Michael is awoken again by Ashton’s warm body pulling away from Michael’s tight grip. Michael’s still mostly asleep, but he hears Ashton whispering and then Abigail’s small voice. Just as he’s trying to pry his tired eyes open, he feels the bed shifting and then a smaller, warmer body pressing into his chest. The smell of Abigail’s strawberry shampoo engulfs Michael as Ashton reaches his arm across the girl to rest his hand on Michael’s thankfully clothed hip.

“She’s really warm,” Michael comments.

“You think so?” Ashton asks, slowly sitting up. “Let me get a thermometer.”

Ashton gets up and leaves the room. Abigail rolls herself around to face Michael. She places a little hand on Michael’s bicep and looks up at Michael with watery eyes.

“What’s wrong, princess?” he asks, concerned.

“My tummy hurts.”

Michael places a kiss on her forehead. He places his hand on her back and moves it in small circles as an attempt to comfort her. Ashton reenters the room and turns on a lamp in the corner before putting the thermometer in Abigail’s mouth. He sits down on the bed and covers Michael’s hand on his daughter’s back with his own hand. The thermometer beeps and Ashton takes it to view the reading.

“She’s got a fever,” Ashton tells Michael.

“Daddy,” Abigail begins to cry.

“Okay. It’s okay. Um,” Ashton is flustered, Michael can tell by his wild eyes. Ashton’s never really had to deal with a sick _child_.

“Do you want to take her to the hospital?” Michael asks in suggestion.

Ashton nods and pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Michael mimics his actions before Ashton takes off to buckle the girl into the car. Michael wakes Lauren to let her know what’s going on before he, too, rushes out to the car and they head to the hospital.

 

And, yeah. Abigail has a fever. The doctor doesn’t seem too concerned. He gives her some medicine and sends them back home.

They fall back asleep in bed, Abigail tucked safely between Ashton and Michael. When they wake in the morning, Abigail’s fever has dissipated and she’s acting like herself again.

-

“What if something happens to me?” Ashton asks out of the blue one evening at the dinner table.

“What?” Michael looks up from his food, confused by Ashton’s sudden concern.

“Like, what if I get in a car accident on my way home one day?”

“Ash-”

“No, I know that it probably won’t happen. But, what if it does? What would happen to Abigail?”

“Do you want me to set up an appointment with a lawyer? We can get it down that you want me to have her _if_ something happens to you.” Michael returns to eating his food.

“I mean, don’t you think it’d be better if you just, y’know, adopt her?” Ashton’s voice gets small and he looks down to avoid Michael’s eyes when he looks back up.

Michael is stunned, because _Ashton wants him to adopt Abigail? He wants to legally share his child with Michael?_ “Um, Ash- I-”

“No, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry.”

“No, Ash, I love you both, so much. You know that. And I’d love to adopt her. I just- Don’t you think we should wait until after we’re married?”

Ashton’s eyes widen at the mention of marriage. They’ve never talked about the topic before, and Ashton looks absolutely terrified. _Right. Ashton doesn’t want to get married._

“Sorry,” Michael apologizes this time. “Forget it.”

The finish their dinner in silence, neither even glancing at the other.

They go to bed, still not saying a word, both facing away from each other on opposite sides of the bed.

In the morning, though, they wake up somehow entangled. They look at each other in wordless communication, silently apologizing for the awkward conversation the night before.

When they get up and get ready for the day, they leave the house hand-in-hand and head to a lawyer’s office where Michael is made an official guardian, alongside Ashton, of Abigail.

-

The wedding comes fast - Luke and Calum’s, that is. Michael and Ashton and Abigail are flying out to Los Angeles all too soon. It’s small, like Luke said he wanted it. It’s basically Luke’s whole family, Calum’s parents and sister, and then Michael and _his family_. 

It goes smoothly though, except Calum keeps sneaking kisses throughout the entire ceremony. Michael kind of wants to slap him because _you’re supposed to wait until the end_ but after the third kiss, Luke starts crying and Michael knows it’s because he’s just _so in love with Calum_ so he lets it slide.

When Calum and Luke are _officially husbands_ , Calum is eagerly pulling Luke out of the building and towards the car. Before they leave, though, Luke looks over his shoulder.

“Mikey!” Luke shouts and grabs one of the few bouquets of flowers. He throws it right to Michael. “You’re next!”

Michael catches it and grins as sees Ashton blush and look to the ground, a small smile on his lips as well. He looks down at the little girl that has her left hand wrapped around Ashton’s fingers and her right hand gripping at Michael’s pants.

And _maybe_ , just _maybe_ , they will be next.

-

On the plane home from the wedding, Ashton and Michael have a long chat. Abigail is asleep in the seat between them, completely worn out from all of the traveling.

“What do you think about marriage?” Michael asks, because he didn’t really get much out of Ashton the last time he had mentioned it at dinner.

And Ashton sighs and goes into a long explanation about how his parents were in an abusive relationship and didn’t divorce, and Ashton doesn’t believe that marriage has any meaning.

“But it means you want to share everything with someone else, that you are vowing your love to that one person,” Michael argues.

Ashton fires back, “My parents didn’t love each other.”

“Okay, maybe things didn’t work out for your parents. And that sucks. And I’m sorry. But things are different with us, Ash! I love you and I will always love you. And maybe you don’t want to get married, but I do! I know I’m selfish, but I want every part of you to be mine.”

He’s looking at Ashton expectantly, on the verge of tears. Ashton’s looking straight ahead, though, at the back of the seat in front of him. When he doesn’t reply, Michael scoffs and shakes his head in irritation.

 

An hour passes before either man says anything again.

“Do you want to get married, Michael?”

“I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want to be involved in.”

“No. Don’t. Do _you_ want to get married?

Michael sighs. “Yeah.”

Ashton nods and they are back to silence for the rest of the plane ride.

 

When they land back in New York, Ashton is carrying Abigail as the three walk through the airport to receive their luggage. Ashton stops abruptly and grabs Michael’s arm to stop him too. Ashton puts Abigail down before he is getting down on one knee beside her, facing Michael.

“What’re you doing?” Michael asks, looking around nervously at the people who are passing by, giving them annoyed looks.

“Michael. Mikey. My Mikey,” Ashton takes one of Michael’s hands in one of his. His eyes are filling with tears and he smiles a bit. “I don’t have a ring.”

Michael’s eyes go wide in realization.

“Mikey, I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I want to marry you. So, Michael, will you marry me?”

“Hey, me too!” Abigail squeals in excitement and starts to jump up and down.

Ashton giggles, the tears spilling down his cheeks. He uses his free hand to pull the small girl into his side. He looks back up at Michael’s shocked face.

“Will you marry _us_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [T H A N K Y O U](http://33.media.tumblr.com/4798e2630cc93b7b1c4ef9e32d93c198/tumblr_naklqxChAg1sgry48o1_500.gif)  
>  Thank you to everyone who has read this! Thank you to everyone who left kudos! And thank you to all of you who have left comments and made me want to keep writing! I love all of you so, so much!  
> Find me on [tumblr](http://notcashton.tumblr.com). :)


End file.
